my friend posted a link to this poem on his fb a few days ago. and i love this so much!
in high school, my english class had a really comprehensive poetry curriculum. we even had a class trip to the boring ass Dodge poetry festival at waterloo village in bumblefuck nj. And it sucked cuz analyzing poems was boring and i just didn't get it!!!! i couldn't even pretend that Beat poets were interesting because i didn't like reading their stuff. why were they so long!!
but the poem above is great. i can appreciate these types of poems a lot more, only cus i can read it and not rip my hair out and still have a life. nowadays when people talk about poetry i pretend to know a lot just because i had to learn so much about it my senior yr, but secretly i hated a lot of it. I always thought the best part about a poem was its title. poems always have slammin titles. here, i'm gonna pretend like i'm well-versed in poetry now just arbitrarily spewing out a few things I know, but actually i barely know much at all: A Rabbit as King of the Ghosts (wallace stevens), Prufrock and The Wasteland (both by TS eliot), dying is fine)but Death (ee cummings), Having a Coke with You (frank o'hara) and The Tyger (william blake). wowee, those are some slammin titles, right (as they should be, otherwise i would never have tried to read them at all)
anyway here's the other published poem by michael robbins from new yorker a few years ago. why do i think he is so cool? is it only because my friend thinks he is so cool? am i super fake? anyway
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