Almost Forgot

NatPoMo!

NatPoMo v. NaPoWriMo

Not since sitting about the large conference table in grad school and unselfconciously spouting the term PoMo (postmodernism, natch) have I had such fun as April. I get all aflutter just thinking about bugging Heather with the term NatPoMo. And then I heard about National Poetry Writing Month...NaPoWriMo. Haha.

Me on storySouth

My poem "Dinner with Family" is up on the superb storySouth, Issue 27, an issue packed with wonders, like stories from George Singleton and Daniel Wallace. And yeah, my piece is a poem...what of it? I can write poetry. I'm very poetic. With the poetry. My only regret is that it didn't come out in April, so I could say it was in celebration of NatPoMo.

Goodbye NatPoMo

Crossing the Bar

by Lord Alfred Tennyson

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.

Ladies and Gentlemen, it's May! National Poetry Month is over, and we can return to not caring about poetry. I can hear a nation-wide sigh of relief. Poets in particular can return to their regular lives as longshoremen and astrophysicists, remember their roles as mothers and sons. Speaking of mothers, I hear we will be required to care about them one day this month. That, I suppose, is only fair. Though if your mother is a poet, you may have already done your time.

I Respond to Heather Responding to NatPoMo

That's right, Heather gave a thoughtful and impassioned response to my criticisms of National Poetry Month. To which I will now respond. Here it is:

My response.

HEATHER responds to NatPoMo

We have a very special guest blogger: Heather of banana fame...and my lovely girlfriend. She will be responding to my NatPoMo bits and showing everyone that I am silly and frivolous. Please welcome Heather:

It has recently come to my attention that my boyfriend is spreading dissent about National Poetry Month through this blog. *sigh* Where to begin? I suppose where Craig does in his NatPoMo post. (I really do hate that.) Some argue that National Poetry Month spoon feeds watered down words to the masses. I would say that’s inaccurate. Some really great stuff is getting put out there in honor of the month. Check out the Poetry Everywhere project where animated versions of accomplished poems new and old are being broadcast on PBS and public transit systems. True, it’s not T. S. Eliot, but the featured poems are sometimes funny, sometimes sad, and hopefully make people think.

And what’s wrong with poetry having a general appeal? Throughout my public education experience, April was pretty much the only time my teachers could take a break from state-mandated test-prep curriculum to talk about poetry. And because I grew up in the buckle of the Bible Belt, it was really “safe” poetry. The first poetry books I bought and discussed with other writers were by Maggie Vaughn, the poet laureate of Tennessee. Her poems have rhyme and meter. They’re about country music and growing up agrarian. Her target audience is retired ladies’ book clubs. But I loved them. I even memorized some of them. Maggie Vaughn taught me to appreciate poetry, tuned my ear to it, and, in truth, showed me what not to do with rhyme and meter. My point of this trip down memory lane is to say that we all have to start somewhere. Some of us have to begin with poetry that has the comforting sing-song of nursery rhymes and narratives we know before we have the confidence and desire to dip our toes into the deeper waters of academic poets. The trick is fostering that desire in readers which is what National Poetry Month aspires to do. But props to those people like Charles Bernstein and Jim Behrle who comprehended the metaphysical ramifications of Ezra Pound’s Cantos on the first read.

And speaking of Jim Behrle, the comic strip frame Craig has featured really pisses me off. Why on earth would a poet discourage people from writing poetry however good or bad it may be? Regular people writing poetry is what makes it culturally relevant. No one gives a shit about a bunch of academic elitists telling them what’s good and what’s not and aren’t they stupid not to see it. Based on hearing the same kind of diatribes during the supposed question and answer sessions at AWP, I can only guess that some poets express frustration with their own work and bitterness toward publishers by tearing down others.

About the question of what restricting it to a month does for poetry, well, I wish poetry was celebrated year-round, especially if my poetry’s in on it, but like most things in America, it’s all about the benjamins. Believe it or not, poets don’t make a lot of money, and it’s primarily poets spending money on poetry. Therefore, my theory is it’s a better use of funding for poetry-loving organizations to band together and really get the word out there for one solid month than to bleed marketing dollars to preach to the choir for twelve. Hopefully, folks will get hooked on the good word that one month and demand more the rest of the year. I hope it with all my heart.

*******************************************************

Stay tuned for my response.

NatPoMo Update

That cutting edge literary magazine Ninth Letter sent me a surprise today. It's for "Poem in Your Pocket Day," which is April 17th, 2008. It's part of NatPoMo. The poem for my poet is sealed in this portable tiny envelop and warns me "DO NOT OPEN UNTIL APRIL 17 PIYP DAY." What can be inside? I hope it's money. I like money. But I suspect it's a poem. What is the poem in my pocket? Find out on April 17th! Live! (Is a blog live?)

P.S. Please resist any jokes that day that begin: is that a poem in your pocket or....

In Praise of Anti-National Poetry Month

So it's NatPoMo! Heather hates it when I call it that. But she also hates it when I talk about PoBiz (that distinctly academic animal where poets swap influence for prizes and positions). Naturally her frustration only encourages me to sing my praises to NatPoMo louder.

Listening to Weekend America, though, keyed me into those who do not enjoy our god-given poetry month. These critics, chief among them Charles Bernstein, say that NatPoMo is a sham that does a disservice to the poetry it ignores because it says to the public most poetry is difficult though there is some good, "easy-listening" poetry out there that wont hurt your head too much, a kind of Flintstone's vitamin poetry. This approach hurts challenging poetry but also the poetry it promotes because it sells it as facile and safe. It also smacks of condescension to give poetry a month as if without it the art form would disappear from irrelevance (Note: there is no National Film Month). Consider for example that the other celebration months we honor like Black History Month or Women's History Month have their critics who say why relegate the achievements of African Americans and women to only one month a year? Why consign the celebration of poetry to one month?

Also with the recent dangers of poetry exposed, can we in good conscience continue to push this art on people? Personally, it's worth it just so I can say: have a happy NatPoMo, everyone!

(pictured: A cartoon called "Stone Cold Poetry Bitches" by Jim Behrle.)