Eating Poetry – Mark Strand

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Welcome to the April 2013 Poem of the Month

April is National Poetry Month, and I have been dutifully tearing poems out of a great book of poetry put out by the Academy of American Poets, Poem in Your Pocket: 200 Poems to Read and Carry. Yes, tearing them out. This book has, as the name implies, 200 poems in an easy-to-tear-out format. I’ve been giving them to friends and coworkers, and hanging them in the hall outside my office. April 18, my lovely daughters 12th birthday, also happened to be National “Poem in Your Pocket Day!” This is the poem I randomly pulled from the book on that day, and I knew immediately that this would be my selection for April’s poem of the month.

 

Mark Strand
(1874-1963)

Eating Poetry

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.

The librarian does not believe what she sees.
Her eyes are sad
and she walks with her hands in her dress.

The poems are gone.
The light is dim.
The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.

Their eyeballs roll,
their blond legs burn like brush.
The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.

She does not understand.
When I get on my knees and lick her hand,
she screams.

I am a new man.
I snarl at her and bark.
I romp with joy in the bookish dark.

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