Rex Carey Arrasmith

For Sedona poet Rex Carey Arrasmith, poetry is a way of both looking out and looking in. “Sometimes I find myself like a bird banging on the window at my reflection.” Poetry offers him opportunities to reevaluate experiences more deeply and from differing vantage points. “I am a pretty private person by nature, but when I write a poem it feels like I’ve been given permission to disclose far more than I would over, say, a beer with friends. It’s a way to connect with my own history — things I may have forgotten or my version of those things with a healthy dose of hindsight.”

After retiring from a long career at UnitedAirlines, Rex refused to slow down. “Being retired  or older (gasp) means I have a lot more life experience to draw from. I’ve read more books; I’ve lived in more places. I also think it’s always good to have a plan for after retirement. Mine was to go back to school.” He received an MFA in fiction in 2018, following up with an MFA in poetry two years later. His writing has been featured in many literary journals and anthologies. He collects many of his poems, flash fiction, and essays on a website called Wrecks Writes (get the play on words?). He’s also an ordained Universal Life Minister, creating original wedding vows that combine poetry with personal narratives. This year, he was instrumental in forming the first poet-laureate program in Sedona.

Besides improving his writing skills, he credits returning to school with discovering an extended literary world. “I believe the most important part of my later-in-life education was finding and developing a community of writers and, most importantly, readers.” He frequently shares his poetry through workshops and readings, including at the Tucson branch of the Arizona Poetry Society, the University of Arizona Poetry Center, and monthly Sedona Poetry Slams. (“I’m terrible, but hopefully getting better. That is the one avenue where, perhaps, ‘youth’ has an advantage.”) He reads often at various series and open mics.

Rex writes mostly narrative poems with a strong overlap between his fiction and poetry. “I am particularly interested in poetry that tells me a story. I know many people have problems with the obscurity inherent in poetry. No one will likely not understand what my poems are about.” Finding subjects is never a problem for Rex. “I feel like I am always writing. I text myself ideas all the time. If I am ever stuck and need to spark my creativity, all I have to do is search my text history.” His themes are wide-ranging. “I draw from real life, no, fairy tales, no, the natural world, no, my wacky family, no, my dead friends, no. Maybe I don’t have particular poetic themes.”

Lately Rex has been working on an extended project that eulogizes friends who were lost to AIDS. “When I first started writing poems I was motivated to write about my many, too many, young friends who died during the worst of the pandemic. It seemed that most of what I was reading was focused on the tragic death and dying part and not about the fun, living part. My friends had lives and loves that had profound meaning to me beyond their shortened lives. I wanted to remember the good times.”

Rex splits his time between two beautiful landscapes: Sedona and Hawaii. “These locales provide me with a constant stream of inspiration. My neighborhood in Sedona is called Solitude. My property is surrounded by the Coconino National Forest. I am steps away from miles of forests trails and red-rock views. I am never very far from the shadows of those who came before me. I have found pottery shards, arrowheads, abandoned cliff dwellings and Native American rock art. The myths and legends seep into your psyche.”

Rex shows his gifts for authenticity in the following poem. He shares, “I was at a relative’s wedding in Tucson and seated at a back table in the reception. Looking at my tablemates it occurred to me that I was seated at the Sinner’s Table. Ah, great title for a poem ….” Rex’s angle on life and poetry is comic with a touch of tragedy tossed in. By the time we finish the poem, it’s clear that the Sinner’s Table is a whole lot more interesting than anywhere else. In life and in art, Rex can be counted on to “get the party started.”

More at wreckswrites.com

The Sinner’s Table

The six o’clock church wedding
was a somber affair.
The eight o’clock full-moon reception,
not so much.
Like always, I was seated in the back
at what we call the Sinner’s Table.

The Sinner’s Table has
a couple of us gay cousins,
the bride’s one uncle who’s
been to jail a bunch,
the one cousin who’s all-ways
the sloppiest drinker,
our very witchy aunt who
finds the full moon auspicious,
whatever that means,
you know, good or bad,
and then the one older relative on leave
from the old folk's home with zero filter
and shockingly knows all the tea.

There is only beer and soda
at this cheap ass wedding
so, our cousin opens her purse
and pulls out a tiny teacup
and a plastic flask of Old Grandad.
The Grandad part of the label was scotch taped
over with the word tea scribbled in its place.
Our old cousin passed around
her Old Tea in her tiny cup.
We all giggle with pinkies extended
taking sips of ‘tea’ like proper English ladies.

We think this undesirable table,
near the bathroom,
partially hidden behind an ugly pillar,
farthest away from the picked over buffet
of build your own tacos and
the picked over scraps of wedding cake,
is the best table.
We get to watch the other guests
queue for the toilet giving us the side eye
and air kisses as they pass.
The deejay starts with Shaboozey,
as ‘Tipsy’ plays we en masse
attack the dance floor. We can
be counted on to get the party started.

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