Drink Up Some Tasty Mini-Poems in Bob Raczka's Lemonade

April is National Poetry Month, so I have been making an effort to immerse myself in poetry. In some cases, it has found me without my having to go look for it. That’s what happened with Lemonade: and Other Poems Squeezed from a Single Word, a slim but intriguing volume written by Bob Raczka and illustrated by Nancy Doniger. The book arrived in my mailbox late last week, an unexpected gift from my Aunt Nancy, who has been feeding my appetite for books for the better part of three decades.

I have her to thank for my introduction to such delights as the intricately illustrated books of Jan Brett; Lois Lowry’s challenging The Giver; Louis Sachar’s intriguing Holes; Lemony Snicket’s twisted A Series of Unfortunate Events; and, most notably, J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, a gateway into one of the most enriching reading experiences of my life. She’s always giving me books I’ve never heard of, and I’m always gobbling them up – or in this case, perhaps “drinking” would be a more suitable word.

“No special reason for this book,” she wrote in her enclosed note. “I think it’s cool – thought you might, too.” I certainly do. The book is a collection of super-short poems, each with a one-word title. The author’s explanatory introduction acknowledges that he fell in love with the form after stumbling upon the work of Andrew Russ. He couldn’t wait to try some one-word poems of his own, adopting Russ’s method of laying the poem out so that each letter lines up with its corresponding letter in the title and often skipping a line between each word. This makes the poems look very unusual on the page. You have to concentrate a bit to make out what he’s saying, while the odd spacing gives the poems an artistic quality almost akin to a concrete poem.

The typeface is courier or something very like it, which gives the impression of these poems having been banged out on a typewriter. Each letter is large enough that it stands out, and the effect of the unusual spacing is striking. Raczka uses all lower-case letters, with the title in black and the poem itself in red on each right-hand page, which features a white background and a squiggly illustration incorporating only shades of black and red.

On the back of each primary poem page is a red page in which the poem Is presented more plainly, with title and poem alike in white print and each word on a separate line. A blank space separates distinct thoughts. For instance, we have “ladybug,” which is “a / buggy / buddy // a / glad / gal”. If you have any trouble deciphering the poem’s components on the main page, this page will steer you right. Each poem, then, has two pages to itself, and the book includes 22 poems “squeezed” from words ranging in length from six to 13 letters.

While these poems are all extremely short – the longest contains only 12 words – they are not so sparse as to prevent wit and poignancy to shine through. It’s amazing what one can do with such narrow constraints. Take one of the shortest poems, “friends”: “fred / finds / ed”. That’s it. But think of all the potential stories wrapped up in that one incredibly simple sentence! And the pleasantly eerie “constellation”: “a / silent / lion / tells / an / ancient / tale”.

Naturally, because these poems are so short and there are only 22 of them, it doesn’t take long to get through the book. But this is a volume one can turn to again and again. The mini-poems are clever and contained, and best of all, they cry out to be imitated. If you’ve ever played one of those party games in which the object is to find as many words within a single word as possible, you’re well on your way. Even if you haven’t, you’ll pick it up in no time.

Take a word, any word – though the longer it is, the more options you’ll have. Study it and see if anything jumps out at you; otherwise, start making a list of words within that word. Any of the letters can be used any number of times within a word, which expands your options. Play around with it, and when you’ve found something that satisfies you, lay it out on the page like Raczka does.

It’s trickier than you might think. However, with time comes “understanding”: “i / read / it / and / i / grin”. My own faltering attempt. But keep at it, and keep going back to that book for inspiration. When a poem clicks, it’s as refreshing as a cool glass of lemonade.