Poetry and the Creative Mind

Last week, because I was otherwise engaged, Mrs. Beatrice was kind enough to sit in on what is usually one of my favorite literary events of the year, and took copious notes:

A few minutes after I took my seat at the magnificent new Alice Tully Hall for the The Academy of American Poets’ 7th Annual Poetry and the Creative Mind program, Lucie Brock-Broido walked into the auditorium and sat down immediately in front of me. An auspicious beginning indeed. Perhaps even more auspicious was the line-up of people slated to read: Rose Styron; Joan Baez; Roy Blount, Jr. (I confess to having been a closet Roy Blount, Jr. groupie since around 1990, so I probably blushed a little when he walked onto the stage); Jorie Graham; Maggie Gyllenhaal, Chip Kidd; Wynton Marsalis; Steve Reich; Mark Strand; and Harold Varmus.

Although all the readers impressed in various ways, several points in the evening stood out. First was Jorie Graham’s interpretation of James Wright’s almost palpably taut poem “Hook.” “Hook” is a breathtaking work under any circumstances, but its qualities became even more evident after Graham’s moving reading, which caused a murmur of admiration to ripple through the audience.

The other standout was musician Wynton Marsalis. Marsalis noted that he was from New Orleans, and, like all New Orleans natives, talked as though he were singing, in minor thirds. And talk and sing he did, as he gave a gorgeous half-sung, half-spoken rendition of Sterling A. Brown’s “Riverbank Blues.” Marsalis brought slightly less melodic but no less musical qualities to the rest of his readings, especially to Hart Crane’s intricate “Carmen De Boheme.”

The music continued as Joan Baez, after reading two of her own poems—“Colleen” and “Low, Low Impact Class”—(“I’m breaking the rules, because I’m not dead yet” she quipped), sang “Joe Hill,” accompanied by Marsalis on trumpet. And yes, the performance was as good as you think it was.

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11 April 2009 | poetry |

Todd Boss, “Worst Work”

God wrote a poem about me,
which should have been flattering,
but He let me read it,
and it was awful.

And what was I going to say?
Far be it from me to hurt God’s feelings.
“Hey,” I said, “that’s pretty good.”
Well, it wasn’t completely untrue.

What a bad word, good,
where creation is concerned.

I guess I might have given
the great provocateur a fight,
but I know too much
about the art of making art,
I owe it to my faith the give the old fart
the benefit of doubt.
It’s hard to write a poem
about someone you love,
for one thing. And for another,
it’s hard to take a lesson from
your own worst work.

Yellowjacket is the debut collection from Todd Boss, and you should definitely check out his website for more poems, as well as information on how filmmakers, composers, and other artists can collaborate with him on creative projects, like this animated adaptation of “Constellations” by Angella Kassube.

Hear Boss read “Don’t Come Home” at Norton’s Poets Out Loud, or “To Wind a Mechanical Toy” at the Missouri Review podcast. (The latter site also features his reading of “Yellowjacket.”). You can also read four poems from Virginia Quarterly Review or “To Be Alone Again in the Thick Skin” (at Poetry Daily), or “The Day Is Gray and the Lake” (Carol Peters’ poetry blog).

10 April 2009 | poetry |