Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Poetry Shmoetry

I have a poem due tomorrow, and have concluded that writing poetry for a deadline, is a little like trying to have an orgasm for someone else's benefit.



Did I just write that?

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

So ... does that make poetry orgasmic?

Angela said...

hell ya.

Artichoke

The nubbed leaves
come away
in a tease of green, thinning
down to the membrane:
the quick, purpled,
beginnings of the male.

Then the slow hairs of the heart:
the choke that guards its trophy,
its vegetable goblet.
The meat of it lies, displayed,
up-ended, al dente,
the stub-root aching in its oil.

Robin Robertson.

phewf! i'm all a sweatin'.

Unknown said...

oh shit!

Angela said...

i know!
artichoke farmers are seriously missing out on a fantastic advertisement campaign, here. the whole continent would be buying up artichokes like nobody's business if they started plastering that poem on vegetable stalls.

...aching in its oil.
man! that guy knows words.

Anonymous said...

Better: The Sex Lives of Vegetables by Lorna Crozier... have a taste of this:

Peas (excerpt)

Your tongue finds them clitoral
as it slides up the pod.
Peas are not amused.
They have spent all their lives
keeping their knees together.

Angela said...

haaaaaaaa, haa, haa, ha.
two questions though
-what's with the vegetables?
-why in the heck were the peas NOT amused?

Anonymous said...

I don't know what's up with the veggies.... hey, you must know about Veggie Tales... but that's another story.

yeah, sexy greens. who knew? You gotta find her other poems... the carrots are amusing (of course), but the onions are far more creative

ps- the peas musta been Pentecostal.... (speaking as a former pentacostalite)

Angela said...

oh, poor pentacostals.
you know, i have heard of her, but never read her. i shall now!

um. veggie tales does sex? although they did handle david and bathsheba in a pretty creative way, hey?