I had to write a poem about poetry for homework for a workshop. I’d drafted a workshop on writing poetical manifestos earlier the day that I remembered the homework, so I borrowed some ideas from that. Redneck opinions trouble me, they are all around me. A truly redneck opinion is ready to dismiss any analysis of a problem area without a thought. Apologies to the sensitive, thinking, cultured rednecks. Swampy suggests I write a twin to mirror this poem’s point of view with a balancing one.
Celebrity
It was a festival appearance–
the poet and the redneck.
She talked of beauty,
of meeting strange people
from strange words,
of strumming souls,
connections with emotions.
He said, “Bullshit.”
She imagined the emotional
logic of words like
callipygous.
He asked for a crate of beer.
They agreed about
having someone to converse with
after midnight,
but not about what
or who
or how the point of view of an insect
can make a person glow
with insight, make the reader
giggle and tremble.
The host thanked them.
She wept into the hem of her skirt.
He strode away crying, “Crock of shit, crock of shit!”
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