5.27.2005
A poem a day...
I'm quite the cutting-edge guy, time shifting like crazy to take in everything the world has to offer. In the very least, I have found a neat trick that allows me to listen to NPR reports that I would otherwise miss because I'm working. NPR helpfully archives all of its material for playback in RealPlayer. The handy sound-recording program Total Recorder allows me to record these as mp3s in the background while I'm working; I then transfer those to my iPod to listen to when I'm exercising. Now, if only there was a way to edit Terry Gross out of "Fresh Air"...
This morning I listened to a report about the $170 million bequest to Poetry magazine and how it has changed this small journal. The editor quit, the office moved to a larger space and there is a plan to spend $500,000 on a study to find out how people in the U.S. come to poetry. Or, not. Poet Phillip Levine calls it a waste of half a million dollars, while another poet decries the magazine foundation's plan to fund poetry recitation "bees," saying it was this kind of exercise that turned him off of poetry as a teen.
I couldn't agree more. I despised poetry when I was in high school, a feeling that stemmed mainly from the fact that the teacher made it clear that she was the keeper of meaning and interpretation, and we were only right when our ideas meshed with hers. Never mind the fact that none of the poems were written within the past 50 years, or that we spent more time learning about iambic pentameter than about the varied lives and experiences that shaped these poets and their work.
It wasn't until long after I'd left college that I began to read poetry for pleasure. I'm not even sure where it started. I bought Mark Strand's Dark Harbor at the suggestion of a friend, which led to several of his other books and, because he was said to follow in Wallace Stevens' footsteps, I bought a couple of his books as well. After finally reading Rabbit Run, I tracked down some of John Updike's light verse (and eventually wrote about his book, Americana); later, reading poems in the New Yorker and other magazines by the likes of Billy Collins, W.S. Merwin, Franz Wright, Charles Wright, Bob Hicok and others, I sought out more of their work. It was an organic process that continues to this day, and it happened despite, not because of the way poetry was introduced to me in high school.
So, I can see the point of those who say the Poetry Foundation is wasting its money. Then again, they're also complaining about the fact that the foundation isn't using the money for poet grants, so consider the source and the context. There is hope, however. Simple programs have helped to put poetry in front of people in the past few years, and that is the best way to proceed. You can't make someone like poetry no matter how many poems you force them to memorize, but by giving them ample opportunity to read good poems, you can at least give them the chance to find something they like. I read a poem every day, sometimes more, thanks to the Internet. I subscribe to the "Writer's Almanac," an e-mail version of Garrison Keillor's daily radio program. I'm no fan of Keillor's precious radio work, but I do appreciate his efforts to pop a poem into my inbox each morning. Some, like noted poet August Kleinzahler lambaste Keillor's effort, saying "I avoid Keillor's poetry moment at nine a.m. here in San Francisco as I avoid sneezing, choking, rheumy-eyed passengers on the streetcar, lest I catch something." Harsh yes, and while he has a point about Keillor's voice, with which he says the host "embalms whatever poem he reads within the burnished caul of his delivery," there is no reason to avoid the daily missive in e-mail form.
Another poetry injection comes from U.S. Poet Laureate Ted Kooser, who recently started writing a weekly column featuring a poem. Again, these are short poems delivered with minimal supporting information. The column, "American Life in Poetry," is another way people with a bit of power and an audience are working to get poetry in front of people. Yes, some of the poems are hokey, some probably just plain bad to the likes of Kleinzahler (who is, I must say, a great poet and essayist, despite this uncalled-for slap), who says that the typical "Writer's Almanac" poem is "more often than not a middle-aged creative writing instructor catching a whiff of mortality in the countryside -- watching the geese head south getting lost in the woods, this sort of thing."
I know I'm not the typical American, dutifully recording news reports about poetry to listen to later, but I'm also not an MFA-certified poet who can drop terms like "enjambment" casually into a conversation. I'm the middle ground, and I've found a way to incorporate poetry into my day. Perhaps if more people on that more erudite end of the spectrum would seek out more people like me to find out how we have made poetry a part of our lives, they could bring a few of the people on the far end toward the middle. More efforts like those made by Keillor and Kooser would go a long way toward making that happen.
This morning I listened to a report about the $170 million bequest to Poetry magazine and how it has changed this small journal. The editor quit, the office moved to a larger space and there is a plan to spend $500,000 on a study to find out how people in the U.S. come to poetry. Or, not. Poet Phillip Levine calls it a waste of half a million dollars, while another poet decries the magazine foundation's plan to fund poetry recitation "bees," saying it was this kind of exercise that turned him off of poetry as a teen.
I couldn't agree more. I despised poetry when I was in high school, a feeling that stemmed mainly from the fact that the teacher made it clear that she was the keeper of meaning and interpretation, and we were only right when our ideas meshed with hers. Never mind the fact that none of the poems were written within the past 50 years, or that we spent more time learning about iambic pentameter than about the varied lives and experiences that shaped these poets and their work.
It wasn't until long after I'd left college that I began to read poetry for pleasure. I'm not even sure where it started. I bought Mark Strand's Dark Harbor at the suggestion of a friend, which led to several of his other books and, because he was said to follow in Wallace Stevens' footsteps, I bought a couple of his books as well. After finally reading Rabbit Run, I tracked down some of John Updike's light verse (and eventually wrote about his book, Americana); later, reading poems in the New Yorker and other magazines by the likes of Billy Collins, W.S. Merwin, Franz Wright, Charles Wright, Bob Hicok and others, I sought out more of their work. It was an organic process that continues to this day, and it happened despite, not because of the way poetry was introduced to me in high school.
So, I can see the point of those who say the Poetry Foundation is wasting its money. Then again, they're also complaining about the fact that the foundation isn't using the money for poet grants, so consider the source and the context. There is hope, however. Simple programs have helped to put poetry in front of people in the past few years, and that is the best way to proceed. You can't make someone like poetry no matter how many poems you force them to memorize, but by giving them ample opportunity to read good poems, you can at least give them the chance to find something they like. I read a poem every day, sometimes more, thanks to the Internet. I subscribe to the "Writer's Almanac," an e-mail version of Garrison Keillor's daily radio program. I'm no fan of Keillor's precious radio work, but I do appreciate his efforts to pop a poem into my inbox each morning. Some, like noted poet August Kleinzahler lambaste Keillor's effort, saying "I avoid Keillor's poetry moment at nine a.m. here in San Francisco as I avoid sneezing, choking, rheumy-eyed passengers on the streetcar, lest I catch something." Harsh yes, and while he has a point about Keillor's voice, with which he says the host "embalms whatever poem he reads within the burnished caul of his delivery," there is no reason to avoid the daily missive in e-mail form.
Another poetry injection comes from U.S. Poet Laureate Ted Kooser, who recently started writing a weekly column featuring a poem. Again, these are short poems delivered with minimal supporting information. The column, "American Life in Poetry," is another way people with a bit of power and an audience are working to get poetry in front of people. Yes, some of the poems are hokey, some probably just plain bad to the likes of Kleinzahler (who is, I must say, a great poet and essayist, despite this uncalled-for slap), who says that the typical "Writer's Almanac" poem is "more often than not a middle-aged creative writing instructor catching a whiff of mortality in the countryside -- watching the geese head south getting lost in the woods, this sort of thing."
I know I'm not the typical American, dutifully recording news reports about poetry to listen to later, but I'm also not an MFA-certified poet who can drop terms like "enjambment" casually into a conversation. I'm the middle ground, and I've found a way to incorporate poetry into my day. Perhaps if more people on that more erudite end of the spectrum would seek out more people like me to find out how we have made poetry a part of our lives, they could bring a few of the people on the far end toward the middle. More efforts like those made by Keillor and Kooser would go a long way toward making that happen.
