“Anyone who reads at all diversely during these bizarre 1920s cannot escape the conclusion that a number of crazy men and women are writing stuff which remarkably passes for important composition among certain persons who should know better. Stuart P. Sherman, however, refused to be numbered among those who stand in awe and admiration of one of the most eminent of the idiots, Gertrude Stein. He reviews her Geography and Plays in the August 11 issue of the Literary Review of the New York Evening Post and arrives at the conviction that it is a marvellous and painstaking achievement in setting down approximately 80,000 words which mean nothing at all.” ~James Thurber
I don’t think the roaring 20’s has much on 21st century “Trumpism.” What could get more bizarre than right here, right now? I keep waiting for Trump to spout, “Is you is, or is you ain’t, my constituency?”
This poem, written several months back in an attempt to mimic Gertrude Stein, has been sufficiently rejected by every journal I thought might publish it. I feel it deserves at least a handful of public readings. After all, it does speak of ecopoetics and climate change. LOL
Can poetry keep up with the absurdity in American politics? Should poems have plots? How much mystery can you tolerate in a poem before you stop reading? Keats called the ability to live with unknowing “negative capability.” Rebecca Solnit talks eloquently about being able to sustain unknowing in her book of lyrical essays “Field Guide To Getting Lost,” 2005. Solnit is one of my all time favorite contemporary writers.
Thank you for visiting! Comments are always welcome.
Sor Juana’s Hummingbird by Anni Johnson
They are mowing. He is mowing. She is mowing. Together they mow. Mowing they do together.
Often they mow. Often they mow together. Mowing often together they mow. They mow often together. Often together he and she mow endlessly.
Endlessly mowing oil. Oil. Oil endlessly mowing. Mowing oil. Mowing grass with oil. Oil.
Grass. Mowing. Mowing endlessly never knowing. Never knowing they are mowing. Never knowing they are mowing grass. Never knowing grass. Never knowing food. Never knowing grass food. Never knowing. Never knowing in the grass is food. Food in the grass. Grass food in the grass. Fast grass. Fast grass food they never know they mow. They never know they mow fast grass food. Food for him. Food for her. Food is in the fast grass. Food they need.
Food they need. They need food. They need fast food fast. In fast grass grows fast food for them. Fast food for them that travel far. Far from fast food. Far from fast food they search fast for fast food. They search for fast food. Fast food Sor Juana once fed them fast.
Sor Juana once fed them sweet fast food. Sweet food. Sweet fast food. Nectar from gods she sweetly fed them. She sweetly fed them fast. She fed them fast food fast.
Frieda should have painted them. She should have painted them fast. Fast she should have painted them before they fled that land. Before he and she fled that land. Before they fled sweet fast food Frieda should have painted them. Before they fled toward oil mowing fast grass.
In spring they fled before she painted them. In the spring they fled to unknowing mowing fast food. They mow fast food. They travel far. Those that travel far sweetly need fast food they mow. Unknowingly they mow fast food. They mow frequently fast. They mow fast frequently. Unknowing.