Writing Poetry

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  • Poetry Hound (4/14/2005 11:05:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Adam Reynolds posted this August Kleinzahler poem the other day in the other forum, but it was lost in the torrent of epithets. I'm reposting it because I think it is terrific. It is filled with the imagery of movement. Adam said it is 'a nice critique of capitalism and the stock markets, ' but I think it could just as easily be read as a celebration of the marketplace. I confess the final stanza throws me for a loop. Anyone have a theory on what it means?

    The Strange Hours Travelers Keep

    The markets never rest
    Always they are somewhere in agitation
    Pork bellies, titanium, winter wheat
    Electromagnetic ether peppered with photons
    Treasure spewing from Unisys A-15 J mainframes
    Across the firmament
    Soundlessly among the thunderheads and passenger jets
    As they make their nightlong journeys
    Across the oceans and steppes

    Nebulae, incandescent frog spawn of information
    Trembling in the claw of Scorpio
    Not an instant, then shooting away
    Like an enormous cloud of starlings

    Garbage scows move slowly down the estuary
    The lights of the airport pulse in morning darkness
    Food trucks, propane, tortured hearts
    The reticent epistemologist parks
    Gets out, checks the curb, reparks
    Thunder of jets
    Peristalsis of great capitals

    How pretty in her tartan scarf
    Her ruminative frown
    Ambiguity and Reason
    Locked in a slow, ferocious tango
    Of if not, why not

    -August Kleinzahler

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  • Alexa Balfour (4/13/2005 4:43:00 PM) Post reply

    ...with a kula shaker, an 8-ball, and a 'lady of the night'

  • Alexa Balfour (4/13/2005 4:39:00 PM) Post reply

    it's like Spinal Tap/redneck/armchair spectator placed inbetween two hunks of bread in a roadside diner

  • kenneth william snow (4/13/2005 3:55:00 PM) Post reply

    I suppose it can be seen as anti-american if you look at american men as people who will go to any lengths to get laid. Sadly many men are that way. Acting as a war hero is easier then actually being one...and a whole hell of a lot safer.


  • Poetry Hound (4/13/2005 3:46:00 PM) Post reply

    Jefferson, I don't understand why you think the poem is Anti-American. It's all sex and rock 'n roll to me.

  • Poetry Hound (4/13/2005 2:14:00 PM) Post reply

    Jefferson, why don't you post the poem here too so that we don't have to go rummaging around back and forth between the poem and the forum?

  • Poetry Hound (4/13/2005 12:31:00 PM) Post reply

    Hi Jefferson. Welcome to this sane forum. I already commented on your poem a few days ago. I liked the energy and color of it but found it very insider-ish. Maybe I'm just too dense to understand the references that are obvious to others. Perhaps you could explain the poem a bit more.

  • Michael Shepherd (4/12/2005 4:51:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    PH, you've read more poetry than most of us. Should we be paying more attention to Pinter? The British weakness for literary gossip doesn't offer much in serious evaluation of such matters - unless I missed something? Are there deeper clues in his poetry to Pinter than the plays? Genius in Britain can I suspect be very lonely unless you're a self-publicist like Amis.

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    • Poetry Hound (4/13/2005 4:58:00 AM) Post reply

      I don't know. I just know I like him. What do you think of the other 5 poems of his on poemhunter?

  • Michael Shepherd (4/11/2005 10:57:00 AM) Post reply

    ...meant to say: 'American football' is a summation of American foreign policy, year 19**?

  • Michael Shepherd (4/11/2005 5:48:00 AM) Post reply

    I'd go with that, Sherrie. Nice how a little inspection of an apparently insignificant ocasional poem can yield respect for poet and poetry.
    Not inappropriate that our most wreckage-beset horse race, the Grand National, occurred on the same day - as the Queen neatly observed. Andrew Motion stayed the course, which could have brought down lesser jockeys!

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