Minneapolis-St. Paul Here I Come

 

I am heading today to St. Catherine’s University in St. Paul Minnesota where I will be teaching creative writing over the course of this next week. According to my Blackberry “Weather Channel” application it will be sunny in the twin cities; the average “high” will be 70 degrees. There will be birds in the half green trees though my phone doesn’t say so. There will be people at St. Catherine’s who love poetry and literary writing though again my phone doesn’t say it. My phone doesn’t have a poetry “app” and it can’t locate imagination though its the thing you want if you’re looking for a nearby Irish pub. Meanwhile I am packing my spring apparel which looks like my winter apparel because I am a dull man when it comes to appearances. All my cinctured, ruby caftans are inside. On the inside I’m Coco Chanel meets Kandinsky. And this brings us back to creative writing. You see, my inner Coco Kandinsky is not a snob. S(h)e believes that everyone can write. S(h)e also believes that most people don’t have access to good ideas and/or scintillating examples of imaginative writing. S(h)e is not an aesthete though s(h)e could be.

 

The point is that one may write about anything. Poetry is always with us. It may be a homely thing that gives us the poem. The Swedish poet Lars Gustafsson once saw a house fly while he was riding on a night train. He writes:

 

Puzzled fly

shut in a night express

 

still trying to fly

and doing remarkably well

 

From the south end of the train it arrives at the north

already a far wiser fly

 

and the train roars all the faster into the night

 

**

 

Of course it isn’t enough to say one can find poetry in anything; it is better to say that all conditions, random, slippery, half-formed, minor–all these present the background of our lives. Chance things give us words and words ex nihilo give us clues and clues are lyrics. Does poetry make you better? Probably not. But it makes you a wiser fly on the night express.

 

S.K.