9.28.2015

Today's Reading List: 5 Prose Poems

What's in a prose poem? 




Well --- poetry, duh. Typically minus all the line breaks (except the natural ones where the page ends). The paragraph is your stanza, and much more emphasis is put on your punctuation placement to achieve the poetic rhythm you usually get from link breaks and what have you. But, enough on the form of a prose poem. We'll get there one day. Today is about discovering them by reading great examples. A really good prose poem should feel like a tiny firework  going off inside your head. Don't blink. 

5 Prose Poems To Read Today


1. "The Colonel" by Carolyn Forché


WHAT YOU HAVE HEARD is true. I was in his house. His wife carried 
a tray of coffee and sugar. His daughter filed her nails, his son went   
out for the night. There were daily papers, pet dogs, a pistol on the 
cushion beside him. The moon swung bare on its black cord over 
the house. On the television was a cop show. It was in English. 
Broken bottles were embedded in the walls around the house to 
scoop the kneecaps from a man's legs or cut his hands to lace. On 
the windows there were gratings like those in liquor stores. We had 
dinner, rack of lamb, good wine, a gold bell was on the table for 
calling the maid. The maid brought green mangoes, salt, a type of 
bread. I was asked how I enjoyed the country. There was a brief 
commercial in Spanish. His wife took everything away. There was 
some talk then of how difficult it had become to govern. The parrot 
said hello on the terrace. The colonel told it to shut up, and pushed 
himself from the table. My friend said to me with his eyes: say 
nothing. The colonel returned with a sack used to bring groceries 
home. He spilled many human ears on the table. They were like 
dried peach halves. There is no other way to say this. He took one 
of them in his hands, shook it in our faces, dropped it into a water 
glass. It came alive there. I am tired of fooling around he said. As 
for the rights of anyone, tell your people they can go fuck them- 
selves. He swept the ears to the floor with his arm and held the last 
of his wine in the air. Something for your poetry, no? he said. Some 
of the ears on the floor caught this scrap of his voice. Some of the 
ears on the floor were pressed to the ground. 
                                                                                     May 1978



2. "I love Karate" by Nick Twemlow


I love karate. I love karate so much I sweat karate steak dinners. I love karate so much I eat karate cereal in the morning, karate sandwiches for lunch, and karate haiku for pleasure. But like a good karateka (that’s the technical term for highly skilled karate person) I don’t eat karate dessert. You know why? Because dessert takes the edge off. You might ask, off what? but if you do, I’ll perform a random karate move on you, as I did my mother when she tried to serve me non-karate cereal one morning. That was the morning when I realized that I was a true karateka. I refused the Empire’s cereal. If you are a true karateka, you are a rogue. Rogues don’t like the Empire. This means that rogues spend a lot of time building dojos in the woods. a dojo is the technical name for a rogue who spends a lot of time building cabins in the woods. There are some karate moves that I can’t show you. Those are secret karate moves. Like all karate moves, they are designed to kill. But these secret strikes kill faster and harder. They are to regular karate moves what hardcore is to softcore pornography. I was sensitive once, but karate got rid of that. Now, I am tough on the inside as well as the outside. For example, if I was in the Oval Office partying with the President, smoking some grass (which I’d fake doing because karatekas don’t smoke grass), I’d ask him to repeat what he said about kicking evil’s ass and then I’d ask him to show me how he’d do it. Since I know the President isn’t a karateka, I’d administer a very secret strike on him at the moment he showed me how he’d do it. That’s pretty much how I’d do things. I want karate to be in the Olympics in Beijing because I want to be on the team and travel to Beijing and win a gold medal. Or at least that’s what I’d trick everyone into thinking I was doing. Part of being a karateka means bolstering the Chinese economy. Sort of like ninjas except a karateka can beat a ninja fourteen out of ten times. So, while people would think I wanted to go to Beijing to win a gold medal and hang out in the Olympic Village and have a really good time with all the other athletes and media and officials and tourists and stuff, I’d really have a asecret agenda. Secret agendas are pretty common for most karatekas. Secret agendas ensure that no matter what you say, you really don’t mean it. So when everyone else was having a good time at the Olympics in Beijing, seeing how Communism is really good on the citizens of China becasue the government rounded up, the year before, tens of thousands of homeless people and relocated them to work details in provincial labor camps, I’d slip out at night and administer random karate moves on officials of the Empire. This happened a lot in Atlanta, too, when we held the Olympics. The part about the homelessness, I mean.

via Extra-Medium


3. "Animal Time" by Carol V. Davis


                        I do better in animal time, 
a creeping dawn, slow ticking toward dusk.
In the middle of the day on the Nebraska prairie, 
I’m unnerved by subdued sounds, as if listening
through water, even the high-pitched drone of the 
cicadas faint; the blackbirds half-heartedly singing. 
As newlyweds, my parents drove cross country to 
Death Valley, last leg of their escape from New York, 
the thick soups of their immigrant mothers, generations 
of superstitions that squeezed them from all sides. 
They camped under stars that meant no harm. 
It was the silence that alerted them to danger. 
They climbed back into their tiny new car, locked 
its doors and blinked their eyes until daylight.


4. "The List of Famous Hats" by James Tate


Napoleon’s hat is an obvious choice I guess to list as a famous hat, but that’s not the hat I have in mind. That was his hat for show. I am thinking of his private bathing cap, which in all honesty wasn’t much different than the one any jerk might buy at a corner drugstore now, except for two minor eccentricities. The first one isn’t even funny: Simply it was a white rubber bathing cap, but too small. Napoleon led such a hectic life ever since his childhood, even farther back than that, that he never had a chance to buy a new bathing cap and still as a grown-up--well, he didn’t really grow that much, but his head did: He was a pinhead at birth, and he used, until his death really, the same little tiny bathing cap that he was born in, and this meant that later it was very painful to him and gave him many headaches, as if he needed more. So, he had to vaseline his skull like crazy to even get the thing on. The second eccentricity was that it was a tricorn bathing cap. Scholars like to make a lot out of this, and it would be easy to do. My theory is simple-minded to be sure: that beneath his public head there was another head and it was a pyramid or something.


5. "Two Nudes" by Mary Jo Bang


I was working in a bookstore and as an antidote to the twin torment of exhaustion and boredom, one day I went with a friend on a walking tour. We made it as far as Berlin and there I met the man I would move with to a boarding house, then to furnished rooms in the flat of a civil servant, and from there one morning in January to the Registry to be married. Afterward we moved to a studio apartment and two years later to the school where boys returning from the war would remove their collars and sew them back on with red thread to demonstrate the end of their allegiance to the cruel and fastidious past. Everyone wanted to be launched into a place from which you could look back and ask whether the red was also meant to enact spilled blood. You could say so, but only if you want to insist that history's minutia is best read as allegory. The fact is, history didn't exist then. Each day was a twenty-four hour stand-still on a bridge from which we discretely looked into the distance, hoping to catch sight of the future. It's near where you're standing now. One day we were lying in the sun dressed in nothing but our skin when a camera came by and devoured us.

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