Talking of Ted Hughes and his tediously explanatory elegies:
There's a handy way to separate the sheep from the goats in the world of
elegies, or other poems dedicated to people. You take all those poems that
talk to the addressee in the second person (and tell them things they
already know) and you put them in the "stupid" basket.
"You wore your blue dress that day, Martha,
and smiled at me through your pain . . . "
"Yes, I know, George, I know what dress I was wearing -- "
" . . . and the kindly farmer handed you the little wombat -"
" - I know, George, I was there, remember?
The wombat urinated on my blue dress -- "
"And the confused creature let forth its flood of complaint . . ."
"I already said I know that, you fuckwit!"
. . . and so on.
I believe it provides irrefutable evidence of the existence of a benevolent
Creator: a naturally-occurring device that allows us to recognise stupid
poems at a glance and thus avoid having to read them all the way through,
allowing us to spend more leisure time developing the perfect afternoon tea.
JT
from
John Tranter, 39 Short Street, Balmain NSW 2041, Sydney, Australia
tel (+612) 9555 8502 fax (+612) 9818 8569
Editor, Jacket magazine: http://www.jacket.zip.com.au/welcome.html
Homepage: five megabytes of glittering literature, free, at
http://www.alm.aust.com/~tranterj/index.html
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