Books make my mother feel wealthy.
She's an attorney, mind you, graduate
of The Yale Law School (which you'd know
if you'd ever seen her try to chop
a zucchini or read a poem, she'll
tell you they didn't teach her that
at The Yale Law School as she botches
the dice and mangles a metaphor), so by most
measures she really is wealthy.
Nice house, three well-fed kids, four
cats presently (maxed out at seven),
but it's the books, she says, that really
make her feel she's made it. So the house,
that nice house, is filled with them.
Many unread, most never again to be
opened, but every room has a shelf
and I found some good stuff boxed
in the attic too, secret treasure troves.
My books are my burden. Books make my mother
feel wealthy, and I have inherited
her habit of accumulating them, mostly
from discount bins and friends'
giveaway piles. I will never have
a giveaway pile. As any New Yorker
will tell you, this is madness: we move
constantly, and moving my books is not
entirely unlike moving mountains. My recent
use of the library gives me nightmares:
what if I am writing a love letter, the letter
that will determine the fate of my
well my everything, and all I need is
one quote, one quote from the perfect book
which I returned the library two days before.
I thought books were permanent. These new rules
unsettle me. So I buy more dollar paperbacks
for their title or tagline or because I think
I've read about the author before, and the books
accumulate and I try to keep up but the library
keeps sending books too, and if I don't finish
them fast there's a fee, and all told it's very
overwhelming. My books, my burden, my inheritance
is very overwhelming. I'm unclear on its permanence.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
The thread of thought in this poem is remarkable, insightful, and feels just right.
ReplyDeleteThat said, I challenge you to make it half the length, communicate the last two lines without stating them (because i think the last two lines are what the whole poem is communicating anyway), and focus the diction. I love "chop" and "botched"--it feels right and controlled and musical. There's a vividness in the first 1/3 of the poem that fades as the thoughts spiral out.
a grain of salt for you: I have been making my way through Marriane Moore poems and find them treacherously dull. I find your poem(s) fresh, exciting, and the opposite of dull--I'm not drawing a comparison at all--merely stating that my taste is clearly very different from yours and I mean only to offer suggestions from the other side of the tracks. That said, if this is the kind of dense thought and poetic rootwork that inspires you, by all means, ignore me.
Does that make sense?
a library queue IS overwhelming.
BAM--this is what I was trying to say--
ReplyDeleteI dislike (I, too, dislike?) Moore's often Latinate choice of diction. I think you have a tendency to make similar diction choices.
HOWEVER, much of the world disagrees with me.
And so, simply be aware that's what you're doing.
Potayto, PotAWto.
Also, I don't care WHAT time period you lived in, NEVER wear this hat: http://www.uta.edu/english/tim/poetry/mm/moore.gif
ReplyDeleteIn no particular order, Mr. Wilson:
ReplyDelete1. I reserve the right to wear any hat I damn please, especially if I can get in touch with Aretha Franklin's millinery.
2. Thank you for the note on the Latinate. I know it's something I need to keep an eye on, because I like those words. In this case I'm hoping that through revision the Latinate v. Anglo-Saxon word choices start to say something about what is similar and what is different between me and my mother, but they're not doing that yet. The lack of fear of all kinds of diction is what attracts me to Moore most, I think, but we differ in that I'm much more invested in clarity of thought/argument than she tends to be. Or something.
3. My #1 worst habit as a poet is to use the last two lines to tell you what the poem meant. I know this is a bad habit but the last two lines always end up being my favorite. You are not wrong to call me out, I just need to kill my babies. You're probably right about the length too, this was just a drafty draft.
4. I know damn well when to ignore you, my darling. Thank you for your comments, they are very helpful.
5. Please see exhibit A of my problem, purchased on Friday which I will NEVER EVER READ: http://itoodislikeit.tumblr.com/post/549133981/a-sand-fortress-the-most-penetrating-and
i'm a bit lost with the line choices, i guess, and i completely agree with eric on the last two lines (though you already know that).
ReplyDeletei'd love to see the 'burden of inheritance' idea more drawn out.
great draft though, very excited to see whats next.