poetry

Disappointing Look at an American Poet

May 4, 2012
By
Disappointing Look at an American Poet

If you’re a culture vulture as I am, you don’t often associate Michigan with poetry, and when you do it’s either fairly dreadful stuff like Edgar Guest or far removed from personal experience such as Thomas Lynch or Philip Levine. It is true several transplants have wound up in Michigan by happenstance, including academic hires such as John Ciardi and Richard Tillinghast. Homegrown Jim Harrison is a poet, but is better known for his fiction and essays.

That leaves Saginaw’s own Theodore Roethke, a groundbreaking “deep image” poet who died in 1963, leaving a body of work that impressed W.H. Auden, Louise Bogan, and many other heavy-hitting versifiers and poetry critics. Suffice to say, Roethke had a tremendous impact on poetry in the second-half of the 20th century.

So it’s unfortunate that Michigan author Jeff Vande Zande doesn’t make more of Roethke in his latest novel, “American Poet.” . . .

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It Could Be Verse

October 18, 2011
By
It Could Be Verse

. . . but on the other hand . . . Have you ever been stuck in one of those interminable meetings that seem to have no good purpose? “An Occasional Poem in Honor of  D— W—” When will he stop? we all wondered. When will he at last withdraw? After our nerves have been sundered And after our patience is gone? The future is but shadowy stuff, But we agree it can’t get here soon enough! Did you ever notice how some signs are spelled in department stores? “Mens – Womens – Childrens” I pity the poor apostrophe, Soon to be lost to you and me Through neglect, No respect, A minor, but significant, catastrophe. If good fences make good neighbors, why aren’t there more good neighbors? “Evidently” So my neighbor decides, evidently, That good fences make, evidently, Holes in his life. All men are brothers, he evidently Believes along with the brotherless Person who first said that. It’s obvious since he very evidently Tramples my tomatoes down Chasing wobbly footballs, Skittish clucking chickens, Border-leaping bassets, and Teetering, chattering toddlers. To him, therefore, good fences Make no difference, evidently. “Sarcophagus” literally means “flesh-eating”: “Monumental” Cold stone drains This warm

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