Not a close reading, though. <\/p>
Poetic, though.<\/p>
Again, I admit to certain aspects of poetry scaring me. In a positive way, but\u2014maybe it\u2019s more accurate to say poems and poets sometimes intimidate me. It\u2019s hard to put my finger on, but sometimes you read a poem and realize that the poet simply sees the world on a different level than you do. That this person is thoughtful in a way you are not, not quite. That person has access to an element that you do not. <\/p>
To prove how intimidated I get by these poets, I just<\/em> now<\/em> realized I switched to the second person in that paragraph. Switching to second person is something I\u2019ve recently realized I do out of self-defense. Everyone agrees with me on this subjective thought<\/em>, I assure my Inner Editor, let\u2019s invoke a universal pronoun here. <\/em><\/p> None of that is to suggest that poets are objectively better than other people,1<\/a> or even smarter. All I\u2019m saying is that sometimes I am so awed that I don\u2019t know what to do with myself. This week\u2019s poem by itself, while very good, isn\u2019t necessarily that\u2014don\u2019t let me build up expectations too much. The book from which this poem comes, though? Yes. Today, we\u2019re reading Kenzie Allen, her poem \u201cWITH THIRTEEN MOONS ON YOUR BACK\u201d from her book Cloud Missives<\/em>.<\/p> note on formatting: I use the \u201cblock quote\u201d function to make sure line breaks stay where they should. I do think that erases stanza breaks, though, which sucks. This poem is entirely couplets, until the last line, which stands alone.<\/em><\/p> WITH THIRTEEN MOONS ON YOUR BACK<\/strong><\/p> for the desert tortoise<\/em><\/p> like tree bark curled into whirlpools of stone, <\/p> burrowed under earth while the sun burned down<\/p> and Coyote roamed the sand\u2014do we, too, return, <\/p> each to our dens in the shivering dark, <\/p> wear armor as a shelter we can carry, <\/p> don\u2019t we, on your back, touch earth? <\/p> Sometimes, ever so slowly, we learn of the sweetness<\/p> of cactus fruit, mesquite grass, the arid wind<\/p> as the sound of an ocean rustling in creosote, <\/p> what the long-awaited rain can yet resurrect.<\/p> Coyote watches. He marvels; what small wisdom, <\/p> your survival, in this rising heat, <\/p> in this strange home you have made. <\/p><\/blockquote> WHAT A POEM! <\/p> Beginning in the middle of a simile is such a great move. Sometimes, I have to remind myself to use similes. Starting with \u201clike tree bark curled into whirlpools of stone\u201d\u2014not a bad goddamned way to get some figurative language in your poem, my dudes. Another move I love is sticking a question right in the middle of the poem: \u201cdon\u2019t we, on your back, touch earth?\u201d is a continuation of a multi-line question (what a move!): \u201c\u2026do we, too, return, \/ each to our dens in the shivering dark, \/ wear armor as shelter we can carry, \/ don\u2019t we, on your back, touch earth?\u201d Goodness, there\u2019s a lot there. There\u2019s both the idea of solitude as shelter and<\/em> a more collectivist gesture with the state universality of everyone having a den and touching earth. There\u2019s a linking of humans to animals\u2014which, we are<\/em> animals\u2014in such a specific and unusual way that you\u2019re hard-pressed not to feel more connected to all living things in the course of three measly lines. Incredible. <\/p> Anyone regularly reads this blog knows that I believe USian culture\u2019s relationship to nature is fundamentally broken. Indigenous writers often do this delightful thing where they address animals as if an informal species name is a proper name, like \u201cCoyote watches. He marvels\u2026\u201d instead of what someone like me would write, like \u201cthe coyotes marvel & watch\u2026\u201d This puts humans and non-human animals on more equal footing. It reminds us that we are of nature, not above it, and certainly not masters of it. <\/p> In the Bible, Christians get \u201cdominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.\u201d Not to plug a Lazy & Entitled book, but half of <\/a>VINE<\/a> <\/em>is about how wrong-headed and damaging that dominion attitude is and has been. Not just to our planet, but to many human beings\u2019 souls and psyches. It is a sickness to be constantly thinking about how you should be able to dominate other beings. <\/p> Better to find commonality with the desert tortoise, better to find peace in roaming the sand, better to slowly learn the sweetness that the planet has to offer, better to make a strange home that nevertheless helps you survive, than to do the USian thing, which is mindlessly consume and exploit and throw away until there is nothing but trash left. <\/p> Anyway, read Kenzie\u2019s book. Start your poems with similes and bisect them with questions. <\/p> Sorry you got an email, <\/p> Chris<\/p>![\"Cloud](\"https:\/\/substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com\/public\/images\/5edc9709-753f-4bbf-967d-b5ac5804e200_3024x4032.heic\")
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