 | 01:27 pm - Seems like a day for poetry
From visual ditties to language fun to comparative fun, I'm seeing poetry. Here's from this weekend's Writer's Almanac...
Poem: "John Green Takes His Warner, New Hampshire, Neighbor to a Red Sox Game," by Maxine Kumin, from The Long Marriage. © W.W. Norton.
John Green Takes His Warner, New Hampshire, Neighbor to a Red Sox Game
Everett down the hill's
52 and trim. No beer gut.
Raises beef, corn, hay, cuts
cordwood between harvests.
Goes to bed at 8 and falls
into sleep like a parachutist.
He's never been to a ballgame.
He's never been to Boston though
he went over to Portland Maine
one time ten, fifteen years ago.
In Sullivan Square, they
luck out, find a space
for John's car, take
the T to Fenway Park.
The famous T!
A kind of underground trolley.
Runs in the dark.
No motorman that Ev can see.
Jammed with other sports fans.
John has to show him
how to put the token in.
How to press with his hips
to go through the turnstile.
How to stand back while
the doors whoosh shut.
How to grab a strap
as the car pitches forward.
How to push out
with the surging crowd.
Afterward Ev says the game's
a whole lot better on tv.
Too many fans.
Too many other folks for him.
The line "...and falls into sleep like a parachutist" is excellent.
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