Rose, I think by the death of poetry, he means the death of poetry as a popular art form, something that the general reader once read and enjoyed, but no longer does -- readers in the "suburban households that once contained popular anthologies". In which case, for him, you pointing to a great work of modernist or post-modern poetry, wouldn't negate his argument, if that work had little appeal among the general public. Obviously, it would be useful if he said what he meant by the death of poetry in his article. It's a big thing to leave undefined.

Amen, Michael. It is blathering. Poetry's not going anywhere. It is, literally, the dna of all art. Movies, photos, paintings, moments, memories, dreams. Moments. The instant the image lifts you off your feet. It's not a choice, or up to a self-involved critic to determine. It's as human as wanting a god or needing a song.

*Thank you, Matt, for posting the article. Seriously, I will read it in its entirety, but I admit I stopped at "Like many millennials."

James, I'm not sure why you're saying "Amen" to Michael, you're one of the people doing what he's sick and tired of. You, me and everyone else on this thread. We're the ones he thinks are blathering.

Not sure I follow, Matt. I'm pretty much saying it's bs. I think that's consistent. By that standard, Michael's very presence here would be part of the blather, right? But, ok, I'll just accept that I'm a self-hating blatherer.

Ah, OK, maybe I misunderstood you. I took you to be saying that the article was BS, rather than our discussion. Whereas Michael's not commenting on the article. He's commenting on us. He doesn't like these kinds of discussions happening at the Sphere. He's "sick and tired" of people at the Sphere having these discussions. He thinks we should be focussing on our writing rather than "blathering" about such subjects. (And yes, arguably, he's also engaged in doing what he says we shouldn't be doing.) I kind of assumed you didn't share all those views, which is why I wondered at the "Amen".

That's part of what he meant, but his argument for that is so unbelievably stupid and implausible that I just ignored it. I focused on the part of his essay that possessed a grain of truth—though he did not see it clearly himself—and tried to contextualize and draw out that truth.

Yeah, that's right, Matt. And I think I misunderstood where you were coming from there. Anyway, I of course don't mind at all the discussion, but I do think you're being a little too hard on Michael.

It seems a little cruel of you, Max, to post something this stupid for our amusement. I mean it's all good and fine to laugh sometimes, but this piece seems more apt for pity than laughter.

Yes, Rose and others, it's an astonishing thing to say.

It's equally astonishing that anyone would dispute, as you do, Roger, that modern life alienates us from nature. I don't insist that this makes poetry impossible. That poetry might require writers and readers who are connected to nature is an idea that's new to me--one I find worth thinking about.

So is your point about Williams, Rose. Thank you. What should I look for in his poems? The standard harping on "the thing itself" has never helped me much appreciate them.

Susan, your post is eloquent.

I hope it's not unkind of me to point out that Michael, by people who claim to know him offline, is frequently accused of being amiable.

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I agree with my whole heart.


Yes, I read Walther’s opinion piece yesterday in the NYT. Like James points out, the author shot himself in the leg with his opening declaration, "Like many millennials...". His contributions as a guest writer for the NYT are “hit or miss”. This one is wildly off target. It’s as if he interpreted Eliot’s The Waste Land as being a self-fulfilling, metaphoric prophecy of poetry’s demise. (To parlay Michael's thoughts — and be morose and possibly profane — What are we doing here? engaging in necrophilia?) He might have a point insofar as Eliot’s poetry being a tipping point/catalyst that catapulted poetry into a new age — but death?! It’s a can of worms proposition that is better off being thrown away with the recyclables. If you really want to get depressed read the comments that swallow the proposition he makes hook, line and sinker.

To his “hit or miss “ credit, he has made a provocative suggestion for reviving the world's greatest game (Baseball — That’s with a capital “B” and that rhymes with “G” and that stands for God’s Game). I remember John Whitworth’s love of the game of Cricket and I privately thinking of that game (cricket) as being the John The Baptist of metaphor-infused games: “I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance. but he [Baseball] that cometh after me is mightier than I.”

He also wrote an interesting opinion piece on the occasion of Norm MacDonald’s death a few years ago that hit the sweet spot at the crossroads of humor and Christianity.

But poetry is dead? Long live poetry!

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