In emulation of Bitty’s participation in the Fourth Annual Bloggers Silent Poetry Reading, I present this 2004 post from the old blog:
I will confess that poetry is not my native language – I gravitate more towards prose – but even I can recognize when verse sets off sympathetic vibrations within. The following work did that for me; it is by the celebrated poet Philip Lopate. Hope he doesn’t mind that I post it here. I first ran into it while reading Bird by Bird, the writing guide by Anne Lamott.
We who are
your closest friends
feel the time
has come to tell you
that every Thursday
we have been meeting,
as a group,
to devise ways
to keep you
in perpetual uncertainty
frustration
discontent and
torture
by neither loving you
as much as you want
nor cutting you adrift.
Your analyst is
in on it,
plus your boyfriend
and your ex-husband;
and we have pledged
to disappoint you
as long as you need us.
In announcing our
association
we realize we have
placed in your hands
a possible antidote
against uncertainty
indeed against ourselves.
But since our Thursday nights
have brought us
to a community
of purpose
rare in itself
with you as
the natural center,
we feel hopeful you
will continue to make unreasonable
demands for affection
if not as a consequence
of your disastrous personality
then for the good of the collective.
