Sharing

I’ve been flipping through the Poulin Anthology of Contemporary American Poetry, and settled into one of my favorites from Maxine Kumin.

I’m not sure why I’m in this mode, but I feel like sharing this poem. Even though it’s not necessarily my place to share it. The poem itself is a bit silly, which seems at odds with the previous lines (above). But the ending is fantastic, and overall – it meets my base criteria for poetry: it makes sense on its own, without a primary reliance on metaphorical/literary references, clear in its voice and meaning, and it doesn’t care whether you are "into" poetry or not. The poem stands on its own two feet.

Maxine Kumin is awesmoe. I mean, c’mon. The woman wrote a profound, meaningful poem about crap.

How much more of a badass can you be?