{"id":682,"date":"2007-04-22T19:00:23","date_gmt":"2007-04-22T23:00:23","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/2007\/04\/22\/edward-dorn-dancing\/"},"modified":"2010-07-16T19:07:08","modified_gmt":"2010-07-16T23:07:08","slug":"edward-dorn-dancing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/2007\/04\/22\/edward-dorn-dancing\/","title":{"rendered":"Edward Dorn, “Are They Dancing”"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

There is a sad carnival up the valley
\nThe willows flow it seems on trellises of music
\nEveryone is there today, everyone I love.<\/p>\n

There is a mad mad fiesta along the river
\nThrilling ladies sing in my ear, where
\nAre your friends, lost? They were to come<\/p>\n

And banjoes were to accompany us all
\nAnd our feet were to go continually
\nThe sound of laughter was to flow over the water<\/p>\n

What was to have been, is something else
\nI am afraid. Only a letter from New Mexico
\nAnd another from a mountain by Pocatello.<\/p>\n

I wonder, what instruments are playing
\nAnd whose eyes are straying over the mountain
\nOver the desert<\/p>\n

And are they dancing: or gazing at the earth.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

From Way More West<\/i><\/a>, a posthumous collection reviewed today in the New York Times<\/i><\/a> by August Kleinzahler, who observes: “Throughout his career, he was the least endearing, domesticated or predictable of poets, always determined to go his own way, no matter what anyone thought. And if he hadn’t been that way, American poetry would be a lot less vital and interesting.” (Really, though, that’s the sort of thing one would say about any poet if they’re any good, isn’t it? It hardly seems like much of a critical insight, which is surprising because Kleinzahler’s usually much sharper<\/a>.)<\/p>\n

You might listen to Dorn reading from his work<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

There is a sad carnival up the valley The willows flow it seems on trellises of music Everyone is there today, everyone I love. There is a mad mad fiesta along the river Thrilling ladies sing in my ear, where Are your friends, lost? They were to come And banjoes were to accompany us all […]<\/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\/682"}],"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=682"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/682\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=682"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=682"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=682"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}