The Unchosen

Thanks to those of you who followed along with Small Pond’s 2013 celebration of National Poetry Month. After today, the blog returns to its general hodgepodge of posts on books, food, travel, and whatever miscellany crosses my mind.

But one last note on poetry first. As I looked through poetry anthologies and collections, deciding what poems to include in this year’s poetry month celebration, I kept coming across poems that held interesting lines. I didn’t like the poems enough to include them fully, but I still wanted to share the pieces that caught my eye and ear.

[…] Well, free enterprise
Is not just umlauts on Big Macs and fries.
          —Turner Cassity, “Off the Nollendorfplatz”

The pears are all buttocks and hips.
          —Morton Marcus, “Pears”

The reader lives faster than life, the writer lives slower.
          —James Richardson, “Even More Aphorisms and Ten-Second Essays from Vectors 3.0”

Because I need old sayings. Because the good ones die too soon.
     Because bean by bean fills the bag.
          —Stephen Yenser, “Cycladic Idyll: An Apologia”

And God stepped out on space,
And he looked around and said:
I’m lonely —
I’ll make me a world.
          —James Weldon Johnson, “The Creation”

Suppose the stars
Fall and break?—Do they ever sound
Like my own love song?
          —Yone Noguchi, “Japanese Hokkus”

so for your arrogance
and your ruthlessness
I am swept back
where dead lichens drip
dead cinders upon moss of ash;
          —H.D., “Eurydice”

Two boys uncoached are tossing a poem together
Overhand, underhand, backhand, sleight of hand, every hand
          —Robert Francis, “Catch”


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