The July/Aug 2020 Poets&Writers Magazine was the first of the magazines I studied this month where the effects of COVID-19 became apparent, an interesting place to end this intensive jaunt through the recent history of Poets & Writers.
In the Trends section in a piece called “Literary Festivals Go Virtual” I read, “The Jackson Hole Writers Conference, Bay Area Book Festival, and Nantucket Book Festival are also offering virtual programming through various online platforms such as Zoom, YouTube, and social media.”
In the Literary Life section in an article called “What We Found in Writing,” poet Gabrielle Calvocoressi said, “like so many people, my classes have been moved to Zoom, and that has been surprisingly fun and also brutal on the eyes. And it turns out there’s even more administrative work during a pandemic. The five-day workweek seems to mean nothing to Zoom.”
And in The Practical Writer section in an article called “Publishing During a Pandemic,” memoirist Paul Lisicky had to call off his book tour in March, but by the end of April he had done seventeen digital events. “the meetings were on Zoom, but he soon transitioned to the platform Crowdcast, which can be programmed to feature a button on viewers’ screens that allows them to buy a book.”
Many of you may remember how quickly Zoom took over our lives. Those screens with all those faces in boxes becoming the norm in both entertainment and personal interactions.
Though I’m glad it’s no longer such a prevalent part of daily life, I have recently found some generative poetry and poetry critique groups that use it: one in California, one in New York, and one in Vermont. I’m really enjoying participating in them, so I’m thankful that Zoom became a convenient tool for gatherings.
The Prompts
NaPoWriMo : write a poem in which the speaker is identified with, or compared to, a character from myth or legend
PAD Challenge : For today’s Two-for-Tuesday prompt:
- Write a The End poem, and/or…
- Write a Beginning poem.
In Louise Glück’s Meadowlands she has several poems about Telemachus, “Telemachus’ Detachment,” “Telemachus’ Guilt,” “Telemachus’ Kindness,” “Telemachus’ Dilemma,” “Telemachus’ Fantasy,” “Telemachus’ Confession,” and “Telemachus’ Burden.”
Telemachus is the son of Odysseus and Penelope and the central character of Homer’s Odyssey. Louise Glück wrote her poems in Telemachus’s voice. In each poem he is talking about his relationship with his parents.
There are many other poems having to do with the Odyssey in the collection, but for today, I thought I would focus on Telemachus.
Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt inspired me to get started on my study of Louise Glück for this week’s MFA work. I found an interesting interview from 1982. I recommend watching it if you’re interested in learning about her process.
Today’s Poem
Reading the Odyssey for English Lit
My alarm clock wails like the child of morning,
and sitting up with my feet on the carpet
I wonder what would, what could possibly
make feet comely. I draw the curtains
to no rosy-fingered dawn, only black winter,
but I hear him, my latest “uncle” banging away
in the kitchen. At least this one is still semi-
functioning in the morning, and has a notion
of contribution that includes cooking food.
I linger at the window staring into the dark.
I know he’s trying, but I feel like Telemachus
with the suitors, eating their way through
his inheritance, through him. Dad’s not dead.
He just left. Or, maybe he’s dead. He might
as well be. I pull open all my drawers, but find
nothing that would make me look like an
immortal god. I leave my room anyway.
I shove my hands in my pockets, bracing
for the dreaded, Hey champ! Another great day,
right? What you got cookin’? Heh, Heh.
That overly cheery I’m-your-friend voice.
Bright smile pushed out under those red-
veined cheeks and eyes. He’s not fooling
anyone, but he’s really trying. I like
the eggs and bacon. It can’t last.
I joined the jazz choir so I would have a zero
hour; have to leave home before Mom got up.
I hate the way she toys with each “uncle” as if
her lover were needlework she unraveled
every night. My bright yellow ship awaits.
Though my crew is sleepy and useless, I must
sail these tumultuous seas. I will soon sing
his funeral rites with all due pomp, and build
a barrow to his memory.
Time is precious, and I appreciate that you spend some of your time here at Experience Writing reading and learning along with me. I set up a buy me a coffee account, so you can now buy me a beverage. It will help a lot.
And don’t forget:
Experience Writing 
Zoom! Congratulations on finishing the alphabet!
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