As I grow older, I increasingly appreciate poetry. I’m a rank amateur, no doubt, having been mostly indifferent and tone-deaf when people were trying to teach me about poetry. Now I don’t even qualify as an autodidact, because I don’t study it. I just read it. Some of it I like well enough to pass along.
Because of the convenience of linking, The Writer’s Almanac is the stuff I pass along oftener than not. So here’s some offerings from the past month, with a few from June.
Her First Novel, by James Tate. My wife says “It’s kind of silly to call that a poem.” I think “It’s the kind of poem I could imagine writing after half a bottle of wine maybe.”
Going on the Belief Walleyes Eat Late, by Thom Ward. This one just evokes memories: I’ve fished for Walleye. Vacations were always apt to leave vivid memories.
Designed to Fly, by Ellen Waterston. Savor the last 4 lines, after the colon. Nice.
Morning News in the Bighorn Mountains, by William Notter. No personal memories here, but a powerful atmosphere.
You Are There, by Erica Jong. To experience a life-changing religious epiphany in one’s late 40’s, as I did, is humbling, especially when it involves the utter shattering of lifelong axioms-for-living. “Life only makes sense backwards, but it must be lived forwards.” That’s how I tend to say it.
To live is to be
at the end.
is how Erica Jong says it.
Forms of Love, by Kim Addonizio. Someone at Writer’s Almanac has fallen for Kim Addonizio. I’m glad. “Forms of Love” busted me. For You, published today, was not the least bit humorous, but ravishing — and and a little unsettling. We so love our individuality and our “boundaries” that some of her imagery in this very short poem seems maybe a little over-the-top. I suspect that the problem is our own.