{"id":166,"date":"2004-04-13T22:59:52","date_gmt":"2004-04-14T03:59:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/2004\/04\/13\/joe-wenderoth-like-blood\/"},"modified":"2010-07-25T14:01:19","modified_gmt":"2010-07-25T18:01:19","slug":"joe-wenderoth-like-blood","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/2004\/04\/13\/joe-wenderoth-like-blood\/","title":{"rendered":"Joe Wenderoth, “Like Blood from a Deep Cut”"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

Like soap-opera deaths, these days are not
\nbelievable, but make a week, a summer,
\na few years, caught in the only plot,
\nquickly, muted now, repeating.
\nEvery rough stone is smoothed, every push
\nof this warm river slower, colder.
\nThis has become obvious.
\nWhat is not obvious is daytime itself
\nappearing in a pointed silence<\/p>\n

like a dead relative in a good dream.
\nThe closer that face comes
\nthe quicker the day goes,
\nthe louder the silence asks you to stay.
\nTo say.
\nSomething tells me this is my afternoon.
\nSomething tells me this is my afternoon,
\nand it comes to me, like blood
\nfrom a deep cut, escaping steadily,<\/p>\n

no matter what pressure is applied.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Unlike the other poems featured this month, this one doesn’t come from a new<\/I> collection; Disfortune<\/I><\/A> was published nearly a decade ago. But Wenderoth is one of the Significant Other’s favorite poets, so there you go. Other poems of his online include “At the Races<\/A>” and “The Accomplishment<\/A>” from Ploughshares<\/I>, “Before the Dance<\/A>” from Slope<\/I>, and three short poems<\/A> at La Petite Zine<\/I>. In a 2002 interview<\/A>, Wenderoth discusses his “novel” Letters to Wendy’s<\/I>, which the Boston Review<\/I> compared to Horace’s epistles<\/A>. As he told another interviewer<\/A>:<\/p>\n

\n

People like to read novels. If I call it a novel, people can read it and dwell in the happy expectation of character and plot and all of that. Honestly, though, I’d like to make up a genre: tragic-comic impressions. And I mean “impression” in all its senses, particularly the one, you know, meaning “imitation of someone else—imitation of a someone.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Like soap-opera deaths, these days are not believable, but make a week, a summer, a few years, caught in the only plot, quickly, muted now, repeating. Every rough stone is smoothed, every push of this warm river slower, colder. This has become obvious. What is not obvious is daytime itself appearing in a pointed silence […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/166"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=166"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/166\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=166"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=166"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=166"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}