I'm a huge fan of poetry. I didn't use to be. Ode on a Grecian Urn somehow failed to move me as an 11th grade English student. At least, it failed to move me to the point that I considered poetry an art form worthy of my attention. It was an arcane distraction for lonely English teachers, as far as I was concerned.
But then I had a kid. And I was unable to finish more than two pages of anything without being interrupted to change a diaper or play My Little Pony. This was a tough spot to be in, since failing to finish a book is somewhat of a moral issue for me. I can't explain that really--it just is. I don't have this problem with movies. I can walk out of a stupid movie without blinking. Maybe I have less respect for film as an art (and maybe that's because it so rarely takes the form of art). But whatever the reason, the fact is I hate to see a book on my shelf that I could not finish.
So what to do... I had been spending a lot of time in Borders and Barnes and Noble, mostly because there was not much else to do with the one hour in between dinner and bedtime, and, as I hope you already know, these book stores have Thomas the Train tables in the kids section. Word up to that. One day, while Tova was crashing trains off bridges, I wandered over to the poetry section. I started reading, and immediately I was hooked. I finished reading like five poems in as many minutes. This was progress on a grand scale for someone who hadn't been able to finish a book for three years. I think I left with Seamus Heaney's Opened Ground that night. It was a great discovery.
Since that fateful night in the bookstore, I've become a veritable poetry whore, subscribing to Poetry magazine, exploring new poets at the price of $20 per visit to Borders, and even scribbling out my own sorry verse when I have time. Like Ronald McDonald, I'm lovin' it.
Now that I'm out of the closet, I wanted to share one of my latest favorite poets, Wisława Szymborska. She is a Nobel Prize winner and a Pole. Just like another literary hero of mine. I bought her "Poems New and Collected" a few months ago, and I've been slowly savoring it a few pages at a time. A few days ago I came across a poem called "Census." Citing the many layers of ruins at Troy, she is talking about the ever-growing mass of humanity in history, and how we become part of it. That one-sentence intro does not do it justice; you should really buy the book to read the whole thing. Anyway, this is my favorite part:
We pass each other once for all time in department stores
shopping for a new pitcher.
Homer is working in the census bureau.
No one knows what he does in his spare time.
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