my knees are cold
August 15th, 2022I’m not taken by this poem much, but I do like the ending. It reminds me of TKS’ “My God, It’s Full of Stars” and a number of related lines I’ve written since.
I just like whistling.
From Margaret Atwood: These are the late poems. Most poems are late of course: too late, like a letter sent by a sailor that arrives after he’s drowned.
From Jeanette Winterson: You want love to be like this every day, don’t you? 92 degrees even in the shade. This intensity, this heat, sun like a disc-saw through your body…
From Ali Smith: Look at me walking down a road in summer thinking about the transience of summer. Even while I’m right at the heart of it I just can’t get to the heart of it.
I want to be better about this. I’m going into my senior year and I know I shall be terrible about it but I’m trying to see this life, love it as I’m walking through it.
There was something about how there are too many books and far too little time. I agree.
“Ars Poetica #100: I Believe”, Elizabeth Alexander
I really like this one as a philosophy of why poetry. I should like to “I” less. Anyhow: poetry is the human voice, and are we not of interest to each other?