Vetsmany 1

Peter Vetsmany
Bret Shepard
English 391
4/1/15
This Last Time Will Be the First Review
This Last Time Will be the First is written by Jeff Alessandrelli composing of
many poems with connection to each other with themes about life and death along
with light and darkness. Alessandrelli begins the book with the time in the first
poem Understanding Marcel Duchamp which is in the morning as the narrator is
seemingly full of rage I woke up, saw my neighbors bike lying in his driveway and
just beat the shit out of it, just pummeled and crumpled and wracked and
irrevocably dismantled it until what it was couldnt even be called bike anymore
(Pg. 15) Without giving any concrete reasons for the actions of destroying the bike
the poem explodes with many mixed emotions that the reader cant yet understand
therefore captures the readers attention by ending it with the disappearance of the
bike once night falls and the garage door is closed. The theme of light and darkness
continues but is transform into the birth and growth of humans to the decay and
death of the human body.
Birth and growth of a human begins in the very beginning for example in the
second poem Understanding Mina Loy (Everything, Everything, Everything)
Alessandrelli writes Always burn the sheets after you fuck them. (Pg. 16) He writes
about sex which is the creation of a living organism and thus how life begins. But
Alessandrelli plays against the development of creating a life since hoping that the

Vetsmany 2
burnt sheets will somehow cease the development of a human. The poem that
follows, Understanding Oliver Twist, speaks about a womb that an orphan is from
meaning the parents doesnt want anything to do with the child. Thus the poem
continues to speak about the growth of the child from stealing to comforting oneself
from the absent of a mother. The poem also has walking into a fluorescent-filled
room and the starlight over his shoulders so blindingly blindingly bright. (Pg. 17)
which speaks about light again and the significances that light has to the growth of
a human. Of still born moments and awkward silences, of nervous blinking,
clammy hands, greasy handshakes, close, for once, your eyes. There is a light so
bright there that it can oftentimes be difficult to see. (Pg. 23)
Outside my window the wind hears nothing but its own rustle In paradise the
beauty of your face is only what you can feel with your hands. (Pg. 37)
In the dark, we can cleanly imagine as much. To see where I was going at night I
used to sleep with the lights on. You were always true. (Pg. 48)
God counts the darkness while we sleep. Burrowing inside the dark sky of his mind.
And wonders about his duty to the blind, deaf and faithful. (Pg. 50)
The ruddy dirt, the announced silence. The unannounced silence. You can see the
stars tonight! Shining and bright! (Pg. 52)