I've said for many years that The New Yorker is the perfect venue for intelligent light verse that's equal, say, to the cartoons and Shouts & Murmurs. But the magazine abandoned lv long ago, about the same time that Updike stopped writing it. I had a cheap paperback of his lv in college and loved to read some of the poems to friends.
I think I speak for most of us when I say that the poetry currently in TNYer is about the last place I'd look for a laugh.
|