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April 13, 2004
national poetry month
is upon us. This is, oddly enough, readily apparent as one drives along the Charles river. No, I don't mean the river is poetic, although it is. I'm not talking about the view, although it is too. Or even the ecclectic mix of people that walk, run, bike, blade, skip and meander along its banks--certainly lots of poetry there.
No, I mean literally--there is poetry on the banks of the Charles. Sticks of it poking out of the ground all along the paths. At least that's what it looks like from the road as I drive to and from work. I haven't been able to stop and check it out as I would like.
It looks like someone has put little signs all along the bike path, with poems on each sign. What a great idea! I have tried to do a little search to see if I could find out who is behind it, but alas, nothing. The signs themselves might say, but as already noted, I haven't been able to stop and see.
I went to a poetry reading by Jorie Graham this weekend. Had the chance to meet a woman in the online poetry group I am part of, Zeugma. The reading was interesting. It was in the upstairs of the Harvard Advocate building, which was a cute little house, quite old, and also packed to the gills with kids ten years younger than me. We ended up sitting on the cramped floor, with no room to move about at all, which left me with one foot in a near coma by the end of the reading.
I think it's fascinating to hear poets read their own works. Their reading is always different than how I would have read it, and often the meanings completely change. As my friend pointed out though, poets often don't know HOW to read their poetry aloud. I believe that is true. I've heard recordings of some very famous poets who essentially near wreck their poems by uttering them to captive audiences. Jorie read her poems in a tremendous rush, as though they were rivers bursting their banks, or as though she were desperate to read them and leave. She read all her poems like that, which I found both curious and sometimes distracting. I found my mind wandering when I should have had rapt attention. I wasn't surprised when, as soon as she finished reading, she slung her pack over her back and made for the door. I was disappointed...I'm used to going to readings and have books signed. John Updike, Maxine Kumin and Tess Gallagher weren't too busy. I mean, the fans are the ones essentially who are anteing up her paycheck...and nowhere is that more true than with a poet.
I think Katey was the one that mentioned something about buying poetry books equates to good poetry karma for the poetic self...or maybe that was Stephanie...it was certainly one of them. As my two Jorie Graham volumes sat, unsigned in the bottom of my bag, I realized that in this case, it wasn't the case.
Perhaps my poetic karma will manifest elsewhere...
Posted by crystallyn at April 13, 2004 06:29 AM
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