Jack Spicer Love Poems
- 1. -any Fool Can Get Into An Ocean . . .â?
Any fool can get into an ocean
But it takes a Goddess
To get out of one.
Whatâ??s true of oceans is true, of course,
... - 2. A Poem Without A Single Bird In It
What can I say to you, darling,
When you ask me for help?
I do not even know the future
Or even what poetry
... - 3. For Mac
A dead starfish on a beach
He has five branches
Representing the five senses
Representing the jokes we did not tell each other
... - 4. Dear Lorca
Dear Lorca,
These letters are to be as temporary as our poetry is to be permanent. They will establish the bulk, the wastage that my sour-stomached contemporaries demand to help them swallow and digest the pure word. We will use up our rhetoric here so that it will not appear in our poems. Let it be consumed paragraph by paragraph, day by day, until nothing of it is left in our poetry and nothing of our poetry is left in it. It is precisely because these letters are unnecessary that they must be written.
In my last letter I spoke of the tradition. The fools that read these letters will think by this we mean what tradition seems to have meant latelyâ??an historical patchwork (whether made up of Elizabethan quotations, guide books of the poetâ??s home town, or obscure bits of magic published by Pantheon) which is used to cover up the nakedness of the bare word. Tradition means much more than that. It means generations of different poets in different countries patiently telling the same story, writing the same poem, gaining and losing something with each transformationâ??but, of course, never really losing anything. This has nothing to do with calmness, classicism, temperament, or anything else. Invention is merely the enemy of poetry.
... - 5. Ode For Walt Whitman
<I>A Translation for Steve Jonas</i>
Along East River and the Bronx
The kids were singing, showing off their bodies
... - 6. Six Poems For Poetry Chicago
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... - 7. A Book Of Music
Coming at an end, the lovers
Are exhausted like two swimmers. Where
Did it end? There is no telling. No love is
Like an ocean with the dizzy procession of the waves' boundaries
... - 8. A Second Train Song For Gary
When the trains come into strange cities
The citizens come out to meet the strangers.
I love you, Jack, he said
I love you, Jack, he said
...
