In celebration of Margaret Atwood’s birthday, I’d like to share two poems that feature her name:
Americans Who Read Poetry
We spot each other easily it seems
Something about us wants to be
Bohemian
Which is confirmed when we learn the names of the other’s pet
Atwood
and
Burns
This alone
Will make us sleep together
We don’t need conventional dating
A little talk
Some world music
And off to bed
Our end will not come too unpleasantly
If it comes soon enough
We will be able to hold the other person
In our minds long after
With enough affection to think of them
When flipping through a new journal
We will see a word that reminds us
Of the touch of their mouth
Or maybe just of their dog.
I want to write like Margaret Atwood
or like the poet
at the open mic
who was able to use cuss words
(but not for shock value–
as an intrinsic part of the piece)
Fuck!
How am I supposed to pull it off
Should I go to grad school?
(again)
I know from my poet friends
that suffering is no longer requisite
but that I would need to
watch a lot less t.v.
I might have to abstain from meat
& start to appreciate pomegranates
& persimmons
things that are red
& layered
& symbolic
not just food
An ode to a snickers
is just a jingle,
not something you can
take a bite out of
& hold in your
metaphoric paper mouth.
