Gluttony is a sin. Indulgence is a luxury. Concerning the Dinner, Montana James Thomas’ latest poetry collection, indulges us in all our earthly delights and then gives us seconds, thirds, fourths… 

This collection is a celebration of poetry, of pleasure, of the pleasures of poetry, of the pleasures of consumption, of the pleasures of consuming poetry. It is decadent. It is rich like foie gras and traditions. But it isn’t a traditional collection.

Thomas has a decidedly defined style and voice that carries through his work and sets him apart. There’s undeniable skill, each word a shining pearl, but there’s not the over reliance on restraint that many of our creative writing departments tend to drill in us. There’s no shame in opulence, in enjoyment, in reveling in a moment, a sound, a flavor, a feeling.

Thomas gives us permission to indulge, and plenty to chew on – starting from the first line of the first poem, “Slinging Objects”:

Pearl poppers sucking on oysters under awnings

or marinating raw things in their open-concept kitchens.

Senses heightened. Are you drooling yet?

Reading this collection I could not help but be reminded of another poet of excess who I admire deeply, Frank Bidart. Bidart was a pivotal poet for me when I was getting into writing. He broke all the “rules,” he broke all the lines, he wrote twelve-page poems about sex and psychiatry and pleasure and symphony. One of his most remarkable works, “Ellen West,” starts in a similar tenor to Thomas’ collection: 

I  love sweets,—

                              heaven

would be dying on a bed of vanilla ice cream . . .

Of course, Thomas also knows, and writes deftly, about the ways that consumption and pleasure are tied up with sex and desire and fantasy. Chins dripping with melted butter or ( ). The collection is ultimately an exploration of the ways in which we are bound by bodily, animalistic impulses. One line I haven’t been able to get out of my head since I read it, from “The cartoonist”:

Animals are angels  

and men are creatures who need, more than anyone, to have their hair

played with.  

In Concerning the Dinner, Montana has served us a whole spread: we’ve got triple creme, vine-ripened, sauteed, flambéed decadence and deliciousness. The table’s spilling over and there’s more where this came from. Now be a good boy and eat up.

Concerning the Dinner by Montana James Thomas (Everybody Press, 2024), $26 on Everybody Press.