I want to look like Henry Bataille, the second chapbook by Minneapolis poet Michael Gause, is filled with sensual observations. Often we find Gause en route to some destination, absorbed in the beauty of great and ordinary aspects of life. On the opposite page of each poem is a fragment which can be read with the context of the poem, or together with the other fragments as a journey that starts on a bus and continues though the poet's day.
In "The Gift", Gause describes a young girl who is quickly developing into a woman, relishing her budding maturity: "Sprung from awkward bones/ into the flesh/ she is poised for things we know well." It is interesting that this poem is juxtaposed with a fragment describing an ordinary drunk and a garishly dressed woman on the bus, the poet transitioning from disgust to desire. Another instance where beauty is contrasted with ugliness is with "Opening", where a scene in White Castle is paired with a memory of passing a beautiful woman in a hallway. Both events leave the impression that they are extraordinary, and in the end the poet realizes, "It is not where you are. / It is where the world is."
As with his first chapbook, The Tequila Chronicles, Gause delivers Dionysian pensiveness, speaking of thoughts and revelations while drinking. In "The Closest Thing" he describes the quest for meaning through intoxication:
In I want to look like Henry Bataille, Gause gives us the intellectual decadence that Baudelaire spoke of in "Be Drunken". We are drunk with him on bus rides, in bars, with people, and in inner dialogues. It is a good and memorable pub crawl to be on, and I recommend you experience it for yourself.
- Jesmia Avery