National Poetry Month 2015, Week Two: David Simpson’s “Spring Fever”

April 12, 2015

David Simpson reading at NYU CEnter for Creative Writing in December 2014, while his brother Dan records.

I’ve known David Simpson for a dozen years, probably more. We were introduced by another writer in Philadelphia and became fast friends, sharing poems with each other, giving readings together on stages and coffee houses.

Dave was funny, direct, and touching in ways that few other poets were in those days. I mean without being solipsistic or confessional or glib or “clever.”

His work reminded me more of Gerald Stern, David Ignatow, or Frank O’Hara than that of any of his contemporaries. I admired a certain casual freedom he offered in his work.

When Dave, who along with his twin brother, poet Dan Simpson, is blind, contracted ALS recently, it seemed unfair. Here was this most gentle soul, funny and sometimes acerbic, always caring for others, stricken by a crippling and debilitating disease.

Dave and I both agonized over our collections of poetry – for years — and the length of time it took us to compile and find a publisher. Both outsiders in the “poetry biz” world, we had time to refine our collections, sharing poems and encouraging each other – even competing with and inspiring each other.

With the publication of his book, The Way Love Comes to Me, just a few months after my Fallow Field, I was ready to celebrate with Dave. It had been a few years since we’d seen each other, as life changes, moves, and other circumstances would have it. So when Dave read at NYU this past winter, I leapt at the chance to go see him, congratulate him, and hear him read again.

I wasn’t disappointed. Even though I could see he was suffering and the disease was clearly getting the upper hand in the battle, Dave remained the same hopeful, witty, entertaining, thoughtful person I’ve always known.

Yet, as his brother Dan wrote in a recent blog post, “ALS, like other terminal illnesses, forces you to redefine what you mean when you use words like ‘good’ and ‘hope.’ Dave says he can see losses every week. He no longer hopes to perform his one-man show. His idea of a good day has more to do with breathing well, with the help of his by-pap machine, and reading something stimulating than with treks into the city and hosting dinners for friends and family.”

At readings, his poem “Spring Fever,” was always a crowd-pleaser. It’s Dave’s “big hit.” He had to read it or his fans would clamor for it. He probably grew sick of reading it, not wanting to be a one-hit wonder.

When he read it at NYU in December, I immediately wanted to share it with my readers during National Poetry Month this year. Why? Because it has all those qualities I love in Dave and his poetry: humor, pathos, and a beautiful way of rendering tenderness in human interactions.

Here is David Simpson’s poem, “Spring Fever”:

A basketball bounces by the pharmacy as I go in.

Thin music from speakers overhead

mixes with the almost-B-flat hum of neon lights. A cashier,

seeing I am blind, locks her register,

grabs a basket, and leads me by the hand down narrow aisles

as we discuss best buys

on Colgate toothpaste with fluoride,

unscented stick deodorants, and three-roll packs

of two-ply toilet paper. In my ears,

my blood begins to prod: Condoms…condoms

and I say to her: “I need

batteries–four double A’s”

Condomscondomscondoms

“and then, let’s check out the condom display.”

She stands on tiptoes to take down

the box of twelve Latex nonoxynol 9’s,

dips low to read me others that advertise

ribs and dimples, or flavors of mint

and mandarin. “Don’t get the mandarin,” she advises,

her hair brushing my hand as she stands up.

The brand name Excita makes us laugh a little

and I get to talking about Ramses and all his offspring

and what kind of confidence would a name like that

instill in someone looking for birth control?

To nearby customers, it might seem as if

we’re lovers, or very married. I wonder if she…

if we… I choose a pack of Lifestyles; she

puts them in the basket, and for just

a moment before we move

toward the checkout line, they are ours.

c) David Simpson

Used by permission of the author.

PS You can order Dave’s book — and I encourage you to do so — on Amazon.

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One Response to “National Poetry Month 2015, Week Two: David Simpson’s “Spring Fever””


  1. Great post. I’ve talked to David a few times at poetry readings, and love his work and his great sense of humor.


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