Q&A: Joe Bergin Talks Shop About the Craft of Carpentry Poetry

When the muse strikes, one must honor it—even if it means scratching lines of poetry on spare pieces of lumber. From nature to the trade of carpentry to more sorrowful sources of inspiration such as the economy, the muse can take many forms for this group that meets on Thursday evenings at . They’re JP’s very own Carpenter Poets, and for the last decade or so they’ve been penning odes to their craft.

While they mostly talk about their day jobs at these weekly meetings, the Thursday after Thanksgiving is sacrosanct, marking the poets’ night on stage to read their work. The group’s beginnings can be traced back to a job on tony Fisher Hill in Brookline, which led to pints after work and the discovery of fellow craftsman Mark Turpin’s Hammer. They thought, why not us, and began writing their own poems.

Not long after, they published their own book, Break Time, and an updated collection is in the works. Joe Bergin—one of the founding members who’s recently traded in his saws and hammers in the wake of the trade’s current job prospects to work as an insulation quality assurance inspector—took some time out from shop talk on the eve of National Poetry Month to share stories about the group at the Gate.

Tell me about the origins of the group.

The Fisher Hill job, which I didn’t work on, brought them all together as craftsmen. Then they started coming here. I was brought here by the owner of Olde Tudor Painting and former neighbor Jon Gummer. The book Hammer inspired us that we could actually write about our craft. James’s Gate owners Paul Byrne and Christy Page have been most kind to the Carpenter Poets, feting us and our supporters many times.

Before this, had you paid any mind to poetry?

I’ve been composing my own poetry since I was a teenager. I tried my hand at a lot of poems, with some success. It was about different subjects, more romantic and about nature. When I became a carpenter, I started writing about what I did every day. The first carpenter poem for me was “The Roof Job,” about a brush with death repairing a Mexican tile roof in Florida in the blinding sun in the early ’90s.

 Do you feel inspired on the job?

Definitely. I would write on pieces of lumber while I’m working, I use a framing pencil. You have to stop work and write the moment the muse strikes or it dissolves. It’s like a dream. I’m not doing carpentry right now so I’m not writing carpenter poems. My last poem for the group was “Why Am I a Carpenter?” I had to look that and pose the questions why am I a carpenter. The year before that I wrote: "Am I Still a Carpenter if I’m Not Doing Carpentry?” With the economy, I got the chance to apply my old trade as an energy auditor and conservation inspector. I miss carpentry. I miss working with my hands very much, the satisfaction that comes with it. Now, it’s brain to clipboard. The tangible product is my reports so it’s still writing.

 What’s your muse these days?

I recently wrote about chocolate. Larry Burdick of L.A. Burdick Chocolate asked me to write a poem for Robert Burns Day on January 25. In Robert Burns style about chocolate. It’s called “Ode to Chocolate” and it’s in Scottish dialect.

 Do you talk about poetry at your meetings?

Occasionally, but mostly about the work of carpentry. Nobody writes carpenter poems unless they’re forced to and then the results are brilliant.

 What do you mean forced to?

Unless they have a deadline. It’s once a year, the Monday after Thanksgiving. It’s sacred. Here at the Gate in the restaurant. It’s a raucous circus of brilliant poetry.

 What is the poetry like?

There’s one rule: It must be about carpentry. I think every carpenter poet follows his own compass, makes his own measurements, and delivers his own product. It’s emotional, very inspirational, and very self-directed, and somehow the work of carpentry that’s done lends brilliance to the poetry. Carpenters are really smart people. They have to figure out so many different things. This gives them the connection to interpret their world.

There are the bedroom slipper poets, which Robert Pinksy is one and Robert Pack from Middlebury college is one. I will throw down the gauntlet here. They sit in their bedrooms in their slippers and watch the snow fall outside their window. But we’re out there, writing poems on pieces of wood with saw blades grazing our fingers.

 What poets inspire you?

Robert Frost because he spent so much time in nature and we respect him. He was out walking in the woods; he wasn’t in the bedroom in his slippers.

 What’s on the horizon?

A Carhartt commercial, and a meeting with the Cowboy Poets of Elko, Nevada. They’re huge, they’re our brothers. One project in the works is a Poetry and Beer event, to be held some spring afternoon, possibly at James’s Gate.