Tuesday, August 25, 2009

from a notebook

I don’t think I’ve ever posted any of my poetry – for the good reason that it is for me and my friends alone. It is private, whereas my prose is open to be looted by all, if they want to. I’m reading Nicholson Baker’s The Anthologist at the moment, to review it, and it has stirred up in me a reaction against its narrator, who is a poet and who says a lot about poetry, and seems mostly wrong.

So here’s a poem.

Down among the lumps, I bet my last million
Although what this million kenned I do not know;
And what was sky high for me then I’ve lost --
Stars, moon and occasions slipped through the hole

In my pocket in the great trance of life.
But I did, down among the lumps
Who always win, whose turns are solid gold,
Bet everybody’s birthright on an inspired guess.

And this is the part no channeler can tell
If I won or lost terrifically
Among the lumps who sit by sullen fires
In the smudged evenings, by the abandoned track.

15 comments:

northanger said...

i've never seen your poetry before, ergo i'm not your friend

:(

roger said...

North! You misunderstood me! I could only show the light of my life the supreme creations of the poetic art, which I am, alas, incapable of!

northanger said...

Roger, news from the zona is great but something else is needed here

northanger said...

and it's ok roger you're not my friend. i don't feel rejected or anything.

northanger said...

i'm just not on your poetry reading team! dammit.

northanger said...

i bet Larry Summers is on your poetry reading team!

northanger said...

my goodness, twitter flew away!

northanger said...

never mind, it's back.

northanger said...

oops, spoke too soon. since you're busy roger i'll make you my unofficial twitter page :) then i won't feel so bad you rejected me as one of your PRECIOUS POETRY READERS.


USC Fight Song: Fanfare, Tribute To Troy, Fight On

northanger said...

twitters back! for now anyway.

roger said...

North, I go to the library, I come back, and it is a North cloudburst!

I've never done the twitter thing because (bad reason) I HATE the infantilizing name, Twitter. And Tweet. And Blog for that matter. What happened to adult names?
Anyway, the next poem that comes to my raddled brain will of course be for you - but it will have to be perfect for the Great Northanger!

northanger said...

well hey. i've used you as a twitter page before. nothing new there :)

the latest m&ms got scrubbed :(

whatcha doing at the library?

i need an iced mocha! now!

you need to get a laptop roger, seriously.

northanger said...

you need to say hi to me from the library.

roger said...

north, here I was thinking you wanted me to be a man - to get away from the screen - to go out to the mountains and trap pelts! and eat raw fish! and grow out of the weak shell that I am, to become more like, uh, Jedediah Johnson. And now you want me to be a slave to the internet? I was gonna buy my traps and everything.

northanger said...

o swoon, you look like robert redford? then you can do anything you want.

roger, i want you to do everything.

including saying hi to me at the library. so get a laptap, get mobile! bring me fresh meat!

have fun too.