Response to Friend's Poem

I don't know what has possessed me to put a poem on my blog. The world is full of bad poems written by hacks and wanna-be poets. Rhymed and metered bullshit that makes me want to hurl my cookies. I should write a poem about all the bad poems I've encountered over my years. What's the point? Mark Twain's already written about it, hasn't he?

A friend from overseas sent me a poem he's working on, to give my thoughts, to give advice. I reacted to it. Wrote a response. Emailed him this morning and thought I might as well post it here too.

Whatever.

When Asked to Edit a Poem Dedicated to Billy Collins
To Brian the Poet
By Fat Jack
May 12, 2008

Why would you send your poem to me?
I don’t understand poems full of intertwining ideas
Of poetic magnitude and academic interludes.

Truth is …
I don’t get your poem.
What with all the soapy suds, hard china and whatnot.
I’m too cowardly to look you in your electric eyes and tell you so.
I don’t even use words like “vestal” and “cloister”
Let alone make sense of them.
For the love of God,
I don’t ever think about unicorns and rainbows.
I sure as shootin’ don’t write about them.

You are ten times the poet I will ever be,
Spending years whittling your pen to write beautiful lines
Long lines
Metaphorical lines that run deep – hit hard –
Make men weep and shudder.

I’ve spent my time writing, yes,
Newspaper and magazine articles
Research papers
Short stories
And the occasional bad poem …
Oh, who cares?

I don’t write poetry like you do.
And you care what I think about your poem –
The one that I don’t understand?
You are a nice friend,
But I can’t help you.
I don’t feel big enough, old enough,
To give advice on poems that are smarter than I.
I like Charles Bukowski
Sandra Cisneros
Jack Prelutsky
Comic books
Dirty limericks.

I love my man Huckleberry,
The first novel I ever read cover-to-cover.
Does that redeem me?
And I’ve read Shakespeare …
But that doesn’t count because I have a hard time
With that too.

Publish your poem.
And maybe someday, if you find the time,
You can explain it to me
In simple terms
Break it down
Tie it to that chair and beat it with a dead horse.
Cause, brother, I can’t water ski.


© 2008, Fat Jack