Hello, everybody,
One of my poems, “Gentrification,” is the Pick of the Week at the Best American Poetry blog.
Here’s the link if you’d like to give it a read:
And a regular post to all my subscribers is coming tomorrow and a post for my paid subscribers is coming on Wednesday.
Thanks,
Sherman
What a beautiful, powerful poem. It turned my eyes toward the forgotten, neglected, invisible. I wonder, does my reading your poem make the forgotten son less forgotten? If none of the weeping, forgotten sons know that I am reading your poem, are they any less invisible when I read your poem?
I am reminded (often) of your poem of the dog, almost run over by a driver. It ends:
Why do poets think
They can change the world?
The only life I can save
Is my own.
Not true, not true.
Sharp and brutal images... from the silence of the sleepy cocoon to the snarl and sizzle of the wasps, a very urban terror uncovered by gentrification. Perfectly titled creeping horror, a different kind of ghost. I can't stop thinking of the man and his son.