The River

This is the opening poem from Pop-Up Book of Death. The first seven poems of the book describe the surreal and horrific pop-up book that I witnessed in a nightmare.

Find out about the nightmare that inspired this poem:
Listen to my radio interview

"The River" from Pop-up Book of Death:

A group of mourners,
standing on the riverbank,
rise from the page like
flowers in time lapse photography.
Even if the page is opened quickly,
the paper figures emote bereavement.

A clever optical illusion:
the lines of the river trick the eye into seeing
relentless current, which
continues to flow in a blink
like the echo of a flash bulb.

Pull the tab:
A pursuit of crocodile and corpse ensues to the right.
The paper body and reptilian scavenger ride on a track,
bobbing up and down through a cut in the page.
At the end of the track, a crocodile jumps from the left,
nipping the thumb of the reader with a sharp cardboard edge.

A fun activity:
The Crocodile Death Roll Game for the bathtub.

Get your copy of Pop-Up Book of Death

Dog Boy

As a dog boy,
I played fort in my closet
where a weird menagerie of monkey puppets
and puppy centerfolds gazed down upon me.

I wore the brown socks of the preacher's son,
and pulled on an accepted identity
like a tight football helmet.

But pretty soon
beastly desire betrayed
my award winning disguise
while puberty spun dark hairs down my legs.

As my voice deepened, so did the desire,
but I only knew
the eager wet lapping of the dog boy,
never the gulping satisfaction of the Wolf Man.

As a dog boy,
I ventured outside the fortress of my closet
only to find more passages,
and my closet transmogrified into a labyrinth.
Every time I looked behind,
I found the sharp raccoon tracks of my miseries
in pursuit.

Then I found the beautiful curves of your footprints
in the luscious muddy ground.
I followed your tracks with my dog boy steps.

You offered your hand,
and our union was like
the profound grip of the trapeze artist.

You led me over the boundaries of the labyrinth
to the canopy-path above:
the joyous leaping of the parachute squirrel.
I held on to you like a Tarsier,
and you showed me a gorgeous metamorphosis
like Beauty's kiss
from dog boy to Wolf Man.

We howl.
Luxurious coats beneath the full moon.

Now we share
delectable and nourishing meat;
forget forever
the hard nuggets rattling
in the porcelain bowl
of the dog boy.

Read more weird gay poems in my book: Pop-Up Book of Death

Press for Pop-Up Book of Death

Listen to the interview about Pop-Up Book of Death on Artclectic PDX:

Click Here: Listen to the podcast!

Jon from Evil on Two Legs writes:

Chad Helder’s “Pop-Up Book of Death” makes enough references to zombies, disease, and dismemberment to satisfy any fan of the horror genre, but this is real poetry written by someone who knows his craft, and Helder uses the conventions of horror to do what good poems always do, whether or not they make reference to the horror genre. These artfully written poems offer fresh insight to the darker and more absurd aspects of the human condition.

Click Here: Review at Evil on Two Legs

Jory Mickelson from Literary Magpie writes:

There is something in this book for most readers.  The horror fan will finally find poetry that speaks to him or her.  A casual reader will be disarmed and drawn in by the use of humor.  Queer readers will find new representations of themselves.  In short, Pop-Up Book of Death is entertaining and uncomfortable at the same time.  It will stay with you just as long as your reoccurring dream about the man behind your bedroom door with the knife.

Click Here: Review at Literary Magpie

"Wander" on amazon.com writes:

This is NOT a pop-up at all....Sad to say, I am a collector of pop-ups and was disappointed to receive this last night and discover it is not one. Not sure why the title, but.....whatever...

Boy and His Dog

I place my face inside her skull-mask
as I peer through the blur-hair;
the blizzard of her bangs
descends over my eyes
in white-out erasure.

I crawl into the dog,
a costume,
a silky-white cocoon.

My foamy tongue dangles past my chin,
and I am helpless to tuck it back inside my lips.
The passages inside my nose branch and turn,
multiplying into the labyrinth
of the dog's odor-understanding.

I feel the white hair blear the clarity of my eyes,
and I transmogrify into the dog again
just like the old movie with Tommy Kirk.

I place the white dog costume
between myself and the camera
in this black-and-white family comedy.
I place the white dog’s mammalian warmth
between myself and the world.
Her image, her symbol, the idea of the white dog
filters my secret.
Her hair turns as black as a shadow,
as black as a pubic hair
with what the white dog filters.

The white dog costume
bleaches my fear of the dark.
I clutch her like a flotation device
as the shadow flash floods the neighborhood.

She buoys me up from the drowning,
buoys me up like a coffin
in which you will find me.

The Original Pop-Up Book of Death

Before it became a seven-part poem (which opens the book), the Pop-Up Book of Death was a satirical book proposal that I wrote in 1997--I almost forgot about this until I unearthed it from a box of papers in storage at my mom's house. At the time, I was working a lot in the children's department at the bookstore when I had a nightmare about the Pop-Up Book of Death. Around the same time, I read a book on how to write book proposals. I came up with the absurd idea of writing a series of fake, satirical book proposals--to poke fun at the book industry--and this was the first one that I wrote. Years later, I would "poemize" this into the seven poems that open my poetry book. Here it is:

The Pop-Up Book of Death:

A Visual Exploration of Death for Children
Art by Miller Candlewick and Text by Gus Sarcoffa

Overview

Nothing fascinates children more than the grotesque and macabre, everything from the elusive secrets of Egyptian mummification to the origin and purpose of snot. In the same way that children want to know why their feet smell or why barf comes out their nose, children want to know about death.

Death is often surrounded by religious or cultural mystery that children find inaccessible. There is no single issue in a child's education more important than a basic understanding of mortality. Our children find themselves unprepared to deal with these issues when a mother is unexpectedly electrocuted by the juicer or a neighborhood friend rides his tricycle under the wheels of an ice cream truck.

It's about time for a book that educates about death while offering curious details for a child to giggle about.

Like the enormous popularity of Grossology and The Hairy Book published by Planet Dexter, The Pop-Up Book of Death educates while it entertains, answering questions like, "Do cannibals have to watch their weight?" and "Could you be fishing with the same worm that ate your grandfather?"

The pop-up book is an educational medium not often exploited to its full potential. Every moving part of this innovative pop-up is a moment of surprise and wonder. Every turn of the page is like discovering a head in the freezer while, at the same time, drawing the child's attention to interesting and educational factoids. This book will illuminate and arouse a child's interest in "The undiscovered country, from whose bourn no traveler returns."

Marketing Analysis

A recent survey conducted by the authors in numerous homes funeral homes reveals that 78.6% of children don't believe that grandpa is sleeping, and a staggering 98.7% thought grandpa was more fun to play with before they came to the funny-smelling house.

Books like The Fall of Freddy the Leaf might sell well to parents, but the authors of this book find it to be, frankly, as boring as church hymns.

At last! High ranking marketing officials feel something a-comin' round the bend in the unexploited market of children's books on death, and that book could your newest publication. It's called The Pop-Up Book of Death.

Summary

Page One: Burial Practices in India

This page opens to a group of mourners standing by the Ganges. They rise from the page like flowers in time lapse photography. Even if the page is opened quickly, the paper figures emote bereavement. With a clever optical illusion, the lines of the river trick the eye into seeing the relentless current. It continues to flow in a blink of the eyes like the echo of a flash bulb.

Pull the tab, and a pursuit of crocodile and corpse ensues to the right. The paper body and reptilian scavenger ride on a track, bobing up and down through a cut in the page. When the tab reaches the end of the track, a crocodile jumps from the left, nipping the unsuspecting thumb of the child with a sharp cardboard edge.

The text, framed in factoids on the edge of the page, offers details about other grisly scavengers and the consequences of overpopulation.

A fun activity is suggested: The Crocodile Death Roll Game for the bathtub.

Page Two: Neanderthals and the Origins of of Burial

A three-dimensional Neanderthal coprse rises from the page as if it were bloating.

Pull the tab, and the corpse curls into the fetal position that Neanderthals used in burial. Red panels slide into place beneath cuts in the paper skin to reveal the curious red ochre markings that anthropologists often ponder.

Children love dead Neanderthals! The head implodes a little as the body curls, and a tiny rock rattles inside the paper skull so the child can play "Forensics at the Crime Scene."

Lift the flap to discover other artifacts used to accompany lost Neanderthal loved ones to the bleak netherworld.

In the right hand corner, pull the tab to open the belly that houses a fetus, illustrating the parallel positioning.

A fun activity: Bury a friend in the fetal position. Use your mother's lipstick instead of red ochre.

Page Three: Egyptian Head

The mummy's bandages slide away like snakes to reveal the grinning head as the page is opened.

Pull the nose tab, and children learn the tricky Egyptian secret of unraveling the brain with a hook through the nostril.

Interesting factoids: The effects of moisture on corpses and the amazing quick rot of the floater.

Turn the paper wheel to reveal what Egyptians might do to your kitty.

Page Four: The Void

Don't let your babes stare too long, mothers!

Page Five: Dress Barbie for the Grave

An activity page. Using easy to understand origami techniques, children are shown how to dress Barbie and Ken for their final resting places in a wide variety of fascinating cultures. All materials are found around the house.

Example: Make a burial headdress out of a Marlboro Lights package. Paint Barbie's face with white-out. Parental supervision is suggested for the cremation.

Page Six: The Wages of Sin in the Wild West

A scaffold rises off the page, complete with a dangling criminal on a string and a mobile of circling vultures.

Pull the tab, and the noose tightens. The prisoner's eyeballs and tongue pop out (Warning: Choking Hazard). The bloodthirsty mob shakes their fists at the hapless soul.

Interesting factoids: Loss of bladder control in the chair and other gross jobs for Death Row janitors.

Page Seven: Death and You

The mirror. Finger face paints in shades of gray and blue line the side of the page. Like a funhouse mirror, the child's face is distorted into pain and regret.

Pull the tab, and worms wriggle out the reflection.

Conclusion

In today's world, children die more than ever. We may have beat The Black Death, but with a debilitating chemical accident every 3.76 seconds in this country and the constant threat of nuclear holocaust from those red devils across the Atlantic, the authors feel The Pop-Up Book of Death will channel every healthy child's constant terror of his own mortality into a constructive and hands-on education of the ephemeral existence of flesh.

Sure, families might talk about death at the dinner table, but when do children get to participate? Like little boys who mimic their fathers with toy lawnmowers, children love to bury the dead and share a glass of lemonade with Dad over a spade and a six-foot pit in the hot sun. The Pop-Up Book of Death is more than just another children's book about rotting corpses. Our book makes children feel like they are participating in death around the world!

Bat Poems From Pop-Up Book of Death

Since childhood, I have always been fascinated with bats, and here you will find two bat poems from Pop-Up Book of Death, the first poem is based on a disturbing dream, and the second poem is inspired by some research into the biology of these unusual nocturnal creatures. Here are my bat poems:

Bat Dream

At the supermarket
a new display of bats on sale

the small size rips open with a tear strip
like the resealable bags of shredded cheese
a little plastic ripcord
and inside a honeycomb of bat packaging

the bats fly out
the speed of hummingbird wings
like pouring out the cremated on wind
and the air zips with bat wings

the medium size
packaged with egg carton
and frozen for freshness
a three-pack of bats
each a winged little fetus

and the large size bat
hangs from a hooked claw
like an obscene hairless chew toy

and I'm relieved because
I get one at last
before they sell out
and I tuck the naked urchin
under my arm
to be resurrected at home
with warm water

Chiroptera

If I could be you
Chiroptera
bat god
for the crunch-juice of exoskeleton
in a mouth of needle-teeth

for the exquisite beauty
sound-sight texture of trees

all my screams would reflect back vision
instead of spilling away

the queer inverse world of the bat in the shadows
where now I collide with tree trunks
I might instead see
the ballet of moth wings with
the flashback music of your voice-vision

the membrane of my hand-wing would brush
past the lips of my sleeping lover
like a flower petal

as a boy I had a daydream about a bat as a pet
a gothic flying fox
I kept hanging in my closet like an umbrella

now I would open you
release you like a kite

if only the world of the bats allowed me inside
to join the secret legion of underground nuzzling

my zoo cards arrived in the mail
and I collected the images of your faces
weird people of the Chiroptera microbats
tender leaf-noses as delicate as genitals
the open sails of your ears to capture
vision like wind

if I could be a bat-shapeshifter
oh lord Chiroptera
allow me beneath
to shuffle inside the dance-floor ceiling
colony of bat lovers

all amassing
I invoke you all
Chiroptera and the taxonomy of your children
tonight
ready to awaken and spring
from the roof of my mouth-cave
like names

Hello Fear

Here's a sample poem from Pop-Up Book of Death

Hello Fear

You,
the one always clutching the bullhorn
as if
I might fight you for it.

You should seek work
narrating the trailers
for cheezy Satan movies.  You,
always the break-in voice of
the Emergency Broadcast System,
freaking me out with
crescendo warnings of the imminent
Flash Flood
and the pinwheel touchdown of the
Mega-Twister, all perpetual haunters
of the View-Master in my mind.

My brain becomes your radio too
sometimes
for the latest broadcast of
the Orson Welles Panic Hour,
firing up my amygdala,
the almond-shaped fear nugget that
operates roller coasters in my mind,
the ones packed with an
all-star cast of screamers.

Hey listen, Fear, my nemesis, my baby,
you, the tremulous force field like an
ice-cold amniotic sac, always
surrounding me,
drowning me,
why not take a Hawaiian vacation
for once,
or hibernate yourself away
down deep in the silent archive of
squirrel acorns-out of my head and
just where I can find you.

Purchase at Rebel Satori

The Owl by the Church

Beneath the great tree by the church,
the sheepdog leads the boy
under the Satan in the owl's eye,
past a molded omen of rodent skulls and hair
that fell from the bough
where a wicked sculptor waits
in his house of owl innards,
waits
to turn pink mice into prey,
into clay,
and the boy lifts the flap of the sheepdog's ear,
whispers to the Jesus in the pink canyon underneath,
to a sculptor of secret dog ears and pink mice
that later grow corrupt and covered in hair.

School Zone

Here is one of the oldest poems from the Pop-Up Book of Death. I wrote "School Zone" in 1995 while attending the University of Northern Colorado. It gets extremely surreal and cryptic in places, but I think this helps the creepiness of the poem. The poem takes place in a school zone where an evil crossing guard is shepherding the children across the street--the crossing guard takes on antichrist-esque aspects throughout the poem. I remember I got the inspiration for the poem while waiting in a line of cars at a school crosswalk. Here it is:

School Zone

He likes to be the crossing guard,
rolling cigarettes with extra squares of gauze
while waiting for the bell at the intersection,
shaving with the edge of the STOP sign paddle
designed for First Aid amputations.
Escorting the wheelchairs to safety,
he shines the smile of a merry convict
concealing a cafeteria spoon,
huffing just enough to fill small lungs.

He kisses the mothers' babies, of course,
embarrassed when his tongue catches
on the scalps of the unbaptized,
frozen flagpoles of skull.
Like an ethereal ear of a fetal pig,
his tongue floats after the children
to groom all the sidewalk roses in their path.
His sunshine never terrifies
when glaring off the windshield
of his approaching angel,
and all his zippers extend to the head.

First review for Pop-Up Book of Death

It's the first review for Pop-Up Book of Death:

Read Jory M. Mickelson's review and analysis!

I was fascinated and thrilled to see which poems Jory chose to write about. He also characterized the collection as very dark and scary and earnest--I loved that!