Savoring the Sweetness

Savoring the Sweetness

 

They walked in that pagan dream
wherein violets grew
distant flutes were playing,
stood alone in a wonderland
as the deer of legend ran past,
plum light intense around him

she loosened her hair, rearranged it,
wished she was wearing her
wrapper with the torn ribbon bows
he dared not look–in reverence
turned his glance from the
worshipful agony they shared

a holiday of silence as they sipped
from silver cups, attraction of
opposites, solidified by peril
hastily she touched his hair,
embraced him with the tenderness
of a crow calling the spring to come.

 
Found poem, culled from pages: 74, 77, 78-79,451-452, and 737 of the novel Andersonville, by MacKinlay Kantor.
Previosuly published on Found Poetry Review’s “Pultizer Remix Project” website for National Poetry Month, April 2013.  
Photo “Blue Forest Path,” courtesy of Nicolas Raymond under a Creative Commons license, www.freestock.com.  
 

AWP and Pulitzer Remixer Redux

AWP and Pulitzer Remixer Redux

The AWP Conference was happening in Seattle this year, so I checked it out for the first time.

I waded past the sea of very serious writers typing in their MacBooks in the lobby, followed the trails of mini-zines and flyers strewn across every ledge, got my hands on the program, and was promptly overwhelmed.  Trying to pick which writers and workshops to attend was painful.  I’ve heard there’s an illness that happens to art lovers when they go to Italy for the first time, and become so saturated with amazing sights that they get dizzy and fall down. It felt like that, only vertical.

My favorite author (not counting local writers), was Ursula K. Le Guin.  It was inspiring to see such a force of nature, so fierce and witty.  Her passion for writing is contagious.

At a poetry reading honoring David Wagoner, he uttered my new favorite quote on the art of reading poetry, after letting loose with a few “loaded” words

“If you don’t piss off at least one person in the room, you’re not doing it right.”  

He is still doing it right.

 
During the break when I visit the Lady’s, I noticed that someone had scraped the “W” off of the women’s restroom sign, so it read, OMEN.  I wonder how many aspiring writers took that as a sign from the universe?  I filed it under “good omen.”

A gang of folks who worked on the Pulitzer Remix were in town, and decided put together a reading.  Meeting everyone and verifying that they are in fact real people and not just head-shot icons on the internet was lovely.  It’s hard to describe the strange bond I feel towaPulitzer Remixer 3rd these folks after thirty straight days of frantic, scrappy, poetry-writing together, but the word kindred comes to mind.

Much thanks to the  Found Poetry Review, the A/NT Gallery, and Jerome Joseph Gentes for getting this shindig together.