October 30, 2014

"Keats said I was right to invite him: due to its glutinous texture, gluey..."

"... lumpishness, hint of slime, and unusual willingness to/disintegrate, oatmeal must never be eaten alone."

7 comments:

rhhardin said...

Eating oatmeal from an urn would be most aesthetic.

David said...

WORDY DEVIL, HE WAS.

"wiped-out lives — punks, lushes

Panhandlers, pushers, rumsoaks, all those

Who took it easy when they should have been out failing at some-

thing.

And after dark, the crone who sells newspapers on the street:

Rain or stars, every night

She is there, squatting on the orange crate,

Issuing out only in darkness, like the cucarachas

And dread nightmares in the chambers overhead."


LESS WORDY VERSION:

punks, lushes

Panhandlers, pushers, rumsoaks, all those

Who took it easy when they should have been out failing at something.

And after dark, the crone who sells newspapers on the street:

There she is, squatting on the orange crate,

Issuing out only in darkness, like the cucarachas

And dread nightmares in the chambers overhead.

David said...

I must admit to never having heard of Galway Kinnell. With that fantastic name, I think I would have remembered.

I wonder how Kinnell felt about having been W.S Merwin's roommate. At least the obituary writer had the kindness and good taste to withhold that morsel until well into the essay.

William said...

The lines quoted are very good and, moreover, comprehensible. He led, as poets go, a worthy and admirable life. I never heard of him either.......I see W.S. Merwin's poems in The New Yorker all the time. Sometimes I try to read them, but I can rarely understand what they're about......Poetry--the kind of poetry that becomes part of your life--migrated into rock lyrics a long time ago. The New Yorker brand of poetry is more artisanal than artistry. It's an obsolete art form for picky, high end word consumers..

rcommal said...

Lightning does indeed strike twice, every once in a while, even though the such is separated by decades.

chillblaine said...

Thank you for this. I appreciate becoming aware of worthy poets and this was one. I could never explore his themes of death and mortality without being consumed from the inside by dread.

Paco Wové said...

Dang. Kinnell was one of my favorite modern poets.