About five or six years ago, the National Poetry Association (hey, THAT must be a group of real go-getters, huh? Anyone else picturing twenty guys in Percy Dovetonsils outfits sitting at a banquet table?) started putting up posters in the subway advertising-racks which featured poems, or selections from poems.
That was nice. They had some pretty good stuff for a while, and it made for a change from looking at all those damn ads when you forgot to bring a book with you.
Recently, the sponsorship of this thing has shifted to good ol’ Barnes & Noble, the guardians of our culture. And the quality of the poetry has really slacked off. They used to have Frost and Auden and Roethke and Cullen and Bakara and Basho and Williams and Wordsworth.
Today there were two pieces, side by side, by guys named “Sonia Sanchez” and “L. Ron Momser” (I may be mis-remembering), both born in 1934, whose work was right out of the Rod McKuen School. I read them out loud to my kid. “Wow, just like a Hallmark card, huh?”
Okay, if you’ve run out of decent poetry, maybe it’s time to bag the whole program, huh, guys? Make more room for the Anal Warts Doctor ads and The Gap. Or invest in a copy of the Oxford Anthology. And stop taking those huge bribes from the powerful poetry lobbying interests.
<Dons black beret and turtleneck–already have the goatee, thankya-very-much, and an autographed copy of Ginsberg’s Cosmopolitan Greetings–and snaps fingers>
There once was a mayor named Rudy
Who wanted Times Square much more prude-y
He chased out the ho’s
And closed the peep shows
Before dumping his wife for some cutie.
Sorry, Ike—should’ve realized I was opening the Limerick floodgates (though I particularly enjoyed yours, Nurl). Back to the OP! Modern poetry—ain’t it crappy? Ain’t it crappier when sponsored by soulless drones like B&N? Where oh where are the Shelley and Byron and Keats of today?
Shelley and Byron and Keats
Were a trio of lyrical treats . . .
If good poetry you’re hoping to find
To improve your soul or your mind
Perhaps you should look
Inside of a book -
'Cause underground verse ain’t refined. Burma Shave
Yeah! And why do people think that loudly declaiming their poetry and copping a hostile, too-cool attitude makes their poetry any better? Or do they just want to scare people out of booing?
You know, I’m an admitted dork, but I sort of like the poetry. I can’t judge what’s good and bad with poetry anyway.
My favorite subway ad is the one with the 1960’s style painted flower and the words “Spring is Chain Snatching Season! Keep your chains tucked in”. I had no idea there was a season for robbery!
Yeah, crappy peotry. I mostly hate those wanna-be intelectuals that think since they took psyc 101 and a philosophy course that they now have the power to write mind numbing stuff AND pick apart my psyche. Thier stuff is mind numbing though.