when you have a question about poetry ask a poet

Or at least read what they say.

Who is David McFadden? A Canadian poet who I had never heard of until today...what's the opposite of an oxymoron...internet research, and...

WOAH, THAT'S A TAUTOLOGY IF I'VE EVER HEARD ONE, AM I RIGHT PEOPLE?

Thanks to Monkey Farm his deets were sent my way.

She's in the midst of a poetry course right now so undoubtedly has all sorts of goodies she can share, but started me off with some great news, just the sort of thing I want to hear...

"Also we had a guest lecture in class last night and there was a brief discussion of clarity in poetry. He told us that there are levels of obscurity in poetry, and that the more you study it the more you can get out it. But he also said that the best poetry - the stuff that will stand the test of time - will have surface clarity, and then underneath that layer upon layer of complexity."

She then mentioned Mr. McFadden and was kind enough to send me a link to his book, recommending Margaret Hollingsworth's Typewriter as an excellent place to start.

-----

I was eating scrambled eggs in the Shamrock Restaurant

and the eggs tasted like Chinese food

so I said to the waitress I'm a person

who likes Chinese food but doesn't like

my eggs in the morning to taste like chicken fried rice

and she laughed and said it must have been

the green onions and suggested the next time

I come into the Shamrock for breakfast

I specify that I want Canadian green onions

with my scrambled eggs or I'll get Chinese again

and I said there won't be another time,

this is it, I'm a widely respected blah blah and blah

and well-regarded in the community too

and shouldn't have to subject myself

to such bad food. I'm finished, I said.

This used to be my favourite Irish-Chinese restaurant

in the entire West Kootenay

but this is it, I'm never coming back --

and through the kitchen door I could see

the Chinese chef covering his ears with his hands.

And so I went to pay my bill

and this is the really embarrassing part,

this is why I'm writing this poem

by hand, pencil on paper, because Margaret Hollingsworth's

typewrite has a three-prong plug

and all the outlets in the house are two-prongers

and her adapter is up at the college

and I begged her to let me cut the third prong off

so I could use her typewriter

because I had a simply overwhelming

desire to write this poem, and she refused

and I told...oh, never mind all that.

This is the embarrassing part. After complaining

so vociferously about the eggs I went to pay my bill

and discovered I had no money with me

so I had to go home and get my wallet

and bring it back to the restaurant

making myself a liar for having said

this is it, I'm never coming back.

The waitress was very nice about it all.

Is it hard to write poetry?

Yes, I would say it is. For instance

in this poem I didn't know whether to start

by talking about the scrambled eggs

or the Smith Corona. And I didn't have

a lot of time to think about it

because I simply had to start the poem,

it was that urgent,

and then you have to torture yourself

wondering if it's all right to write about

writing in a poem and you keep resolving

never again to write about writing

and you always break your resolve.

It's as if writing has a will of its own

and wants to be written about

just like Margaret Hollingsworth's

typewriter.

-----

Great stuff, so clear and seemingly simple. And the book was nominated for the 2008 Griffin Poetry Prize.

It's great when you find out you aren't alone. Others are pondering poetry's absurdities as well, and And AND, the introduction to McFadden's book compares him to Frank O'Hara (see the below post if you've already forgotten) in the first line! Oh universe, you are a tricky monkey.