A poet laureate can be understood as an official poet of a government. The US has had a national laureate for many years. I was reading an article in the New York Times that there are actually 45 state poet laureates in the US. This number doesn’t count those lower than the state level; there are tons of them on the county and city level as well. Hell, even my city has one.
The funny thing about this article, in particular, is that it wasn’t an article about how poetry is a dying art.. The writer even mentions this multiple times in the article, as if surprised herself. There was another article the Times published more in line with this narrative. The author calls on the nation’s schools to begin teaching poetry again. What is funny here is that the article is based on three false assumptions.
The first assumption is that poetry is a dead art form here in America. It most certainly isn’t.
For proof, I turn to Fancy by Iggy Azalea.
Stay with me now. Continue reading
Entartete Kunst Exhibit Announcement Poster, 1938
There’s a story that always bothers me.
I don’t even need to open a book to read it. You can see it in every Jimmy John’s sandwich shop, hanging on the wall.
It’s called How Much is Enough? Continue reading
O! beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
the meat it feeds on
That little piece of Shakespeare, spoken by Iago in Othello, is the origin of the phrase ‘green with envy.’ It is believed that Shakespeare is describing the green eyes of a black cat to make his metaphor.
Comparing envy to an animal is a particularly clever. It seems beyond our control. Someone has something, knows something, or does something you cannot. And you want. Continue reading
There are nineteen poems that never existed
Nor will they ever exist
They are locked between pages
In a library of never were
Shelved with forgotten thoughts
You can shout silently all you like
But you’ll never read them
Of course, you know this
And you ache anyway.