Attention Conservation Notice: I still haven’t read enough poems, but some lovely people have donated anyway. Poets read include Aleister Crowley, T.S. Eliot, Lee Cataldi, Carolyn Kizer, Banjo Patterson, Ellyn Touchette and Simon Armitage. (1716 words)
Okay it’s not going brilliantly. Amazing how three days can just whip past and you turn around and think fuck I haven’t read a single damn poem in days and then don’t do a damn thing about it. I’ve also been sloppier about actually keeping notes on when I’ve actually read these poems, so that whole day-by-day format is out the window too. Totally defenestrated.
Here are some of the poems I did read of late. And thank you muchly to the generous donors who’ve come to the party since I last posted, bringing the total raised to a delightful $241.50. If you’d like to be part of this odd little project and donate some money to the Indigenous Literacy Foundation, then head over to my Everyday Hero page and follow yon instructions.
To the poems!
“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot
Holy fuck. I know this is kind of an obvious choice in some ways, one that risks the “really? you hadn’t read that?” accusation, but no, no I hadn’t read it but now I have (and if you haven’t yourself, you really really should) and holy fuck. This? Is a pretty good poem.
I’m not kidding myself that my opinion, heaped onto the back of everything else that’s been written, thought and said about it, is worth anything, but damn this poem is a shot in the arm, extolling the virtues of carpe diem et cetera by painting the picture of a most vacillating and cowardly person who’s paralysed by inhibition. Trust me. You don’t want to be this guy.
Do I dare to eat a peach, Mr. Eliot? Yes I bloody well do. And thank you for reminding me of that.