The Final Days

WEEK FIFTEEN
T – 4/27
• Readings: Eric Fackrell and Kevin Conrad and Megan Marturello
• "Ars Poetica" poem due, bring copies.
R – 4/ 29
• Readings: Rick Telsrow and Samuel Jelinek
• All poems, plus two revised poems, marked as "revised," on blog
• Copies of one revised poem and original brought to class.


WEEK SIXTEEN
Final
• Readings: Matthew Hurley and Cory Skeers
• Chapbooks Due, with cover

End-of-Semester Schedule

WEEK THIRTEEN
T – 4/13
• Readings: Hannah Walleser and Rachel Pratt
• Write “shadow” poem [PP]
• Read: Poet’s Companion: ”The Shadow”
• Read: Harjo: She Had Some Horses
• Write: Harjo poem [PP]
r – 4/15
• Readings: Alissa Griffith and Michael Schneider and James Galvan
• Read: Poet’s Companion: ”Witnessing”
• Write “witnessing” or Harjo poem [PP]

WEEK FOURTEEN
T – 4/20
• Readings: Leah Baugh and Sean Roper
• Write “place” or Harjo poem [PP]
• Read: Poet’s Companion: ”Poetry of Place”
R – 4/22
• Write: Three-Page Critical Response to Harjo [CR]

WEEK FIFTEEN
T – 4/27
• Readings: Eric Fackrell and Kevin Conrad and Megan Marturello
• Revised poem and original
R – 4/ 29
• Readings: Rick Telsrow and Samuel Jelinek
• Poetry Portfolio due, including three revised poems.

WEEK SIXTEEN
Final
• Readings: Matthew Hurley and Cory Skeers
• Chapbooks Due, with cover

Disc Golf With Jesus

By Jase Rohde

I know you've been asked
If you could hang out with one person
Who would it be?
They don't have to be alive
Who would it be?

I'd pick Jesus, wouldn't you?
Even if you don't believe he was the Messiah
He'd be sweet to hang out with
Grab a beer, watch the game
Maybe hit up the disc golf course
later on?

Sure, he'd win
He'd bust out some sweet hole-in-one
on a par five

And his disc would inevitably go in the water
just so he could show off his walking on water skills

But it'd still be cool, right?
I hear he was a nice guy

Think about it
You could ask him about the resurrection
While curving your disc around that tree
on hole seven

Or on that long par three
you could ask him how he did
that whole feeding the five thousand thing

Maybe it's just me
But I would love to play disc golf with Jesus
Wouldn't you?

In Your Wake

The strings in your shoes,
Fray, leaving pieces in the
Grass, small threads of you.

No Title

Why did you ask me to remember my mistakes
But taught me to forgive mistakes of others?

And in the world

Where dignity is no longer taking place

And kids are being raised without mothers

We still have faith in you

We pray to you at bedtime

We ask you for forgiveness

Hope you will

Because we all get jealous still

And still get mad without reasons

We still get scared

Cry until the makeup’s smeared

You know, I hope it’s just a sudden change of seasons
That’s why I feel today a little weird

- Maria Rathje

Brenda Jones Poem

Rick Telsrow
Brenda Jones Poem
I can offer no comfort
as those who embrace me tightly
kneel in the dirt. They feed
the earth with their tears,
as their soft skin touches
a rough, red world.

I choke with the bareness
of vibrant colors. The disguise
has worn off and there is
a rocky dusting on life
in the sun.

The computation stands before me
with no gap in its thickness. I wish
I had a tool, something made
of iron or steel,
that would help me carve
through the rock
and grab the rotting carcass
and throw it in the salt.

らせん階段

A spiral staircase,
it will lead me in circles
as I climb upward.

-Matt Hurley

Brenda Jones's Rome

I saw some things in a makeshift
Gypsy village in Rome.

Doubtless, there were plenty of others
Just like it, other pockets in other pool tables,
Other holes where things go when they’re
Poked and bumped and beaten down,
But I saw this one.

There were stained barrels used
As pillars and cornerstones for dirty tents.
The canvas probably breathed
Like a lung when the wind went through.

There were four women
All different in age, all sad about something
Different, yet all somehow the same.

There was Anguish, aged and slouching, her face
Crumpled in on itself like old paper.

There was Despair, in mismatched shoes,
Staring with eyes like caves as she made
Tattered fabric into tattered clothes.

There was Fright, her face young
And flat, her body wrapped in blankets, shielding
Herself from something I couldn’t see.

There was a fourth, turned away
From me, turned away from everything.
Somehow I knew she was the most pained of all.

And over their shoulders, just past a wall
And a few busy streets, the Vatican
Winked blades of yellow sunlight at them.

If they turned, they could see its spotless dome.
If it grew eyes and ears and a brain and
A heart, the dome could not see them.

Leaving the place quickly, like glancing
Away from a painting on a wall,
I couldn’t help but hope
That we’d turn out something different
Than our parents.

-Nate Pillman

Spring Cleaning

A mother robin gathered grass
And stuffed it into the vent
Of the newer bathroom.
She must have found it cozy
So laid her eggs there.
We taped the fan switch to “off”
So none of us could
Accidentally
Flip it on and find ourselves
Covered in bloody baby robin down.
But they couldn’t stay there.

We climbed a ladder
And with a gloved hand
Reached in and pulled out
The squawking babies
One by one
And flung them
To the sidewalk below.
If the mother was there
She made no sign of protest.
Not one of the four died
On impact.

We took a shovel,
Tried to clunk one on the head,
Tried to slit another’s throat,
As they chirped
And flapped weak wings
And wriggled.
So we scraped them up
On the metal arm
And plopped them in the cornfield
To die or be eaten.


© Hannah Walleser

What She Would Say

There was a place I used to know
Or a thought I used to keep
Locked inside my chest and I had the only key

I thought it was safe
Chained in a small box next to my lungs
Where you couldn’t see it

I didn’t lose my key
Or give it away
But you found it anyway

Now I can’t see
This place I used to be
Where I hid my thoughts

My wants, my needs
They’re all gone
Lost in a dirty shovel of snow

And rocks
The shovel dripping with grime
And splatters marring the soft white

I didn’t lose it
You took it from me
And ground it in the dirt with your heel

Like an old cigarette
Burnt out and useless
You sucked in too deep

It’s gone, so gone, I can’t even feel it
Like the yellow light you stole
From my back porch

“And where do we keep the bodies,”
You asked me once
And I blushed

Like a silken thread braided and knotted
Against the pale flesh
Of your throat

There was a place I used to know
Where I was safe
And so were you

Where the lightening didn’t stride
Across your eyes
And the thunder didn’t cramp in your jaw

I’m afraid to use my key
That you’ll be inside waiting for me
And escape isn’t in my cards this time

You’ll light me and smoke me
Like some cheap cigar
From the bottom of drawer of your file cabinet

And I’ll be stuck
Stuck like a laminated post-it note
Between the leaves of a folder

You’ll thumb through your files
And find the folder of me
And think fondly of the way we used to be

While what’s me is gone

~ Jessica Slavik

Hey, Young Republican by Eric Fackrell

I wonder
Were you there for Brown v. Board
With your picket signs
Or at the ratification of the 15th Amendment
Foretelling of a socialist demise
Did you stand at Gettysburg
And tell the government to keep its hands off your slaves

Social conservatism preaches:
“Let’s turn the clock back to 1950”
To a time when
Women were subordinate
Gays were forced into the closet
Blacks were beaten in the streets
And stripped naked by fire hoses
I wonder
Were you there holding the hose?
Are you proud?

“Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness”
But is life only for the rich
The white
The righteous?
A blind and wounded elephant
Stampedes
On the cusp of legislation
That may literally save your life
You protest on Capitol Hill
Screaming, “Nigger” at a civil rights hero
Crying, “Faggot” at a gay rights champion
Spit in their faces
That is your legacy
Are you proud?

I was nine years old
When my young Republican friends
Decried Clinton and his dialobical plot of year-round school
I spent months explaining
That year-round school did not mean
School on weekends
Or no summer break
Fourteen years later
It’s the same argument
Fact versus fiction
Reality versus fantasy

Tried to give your enemy his Waterloo
At any cost
What do you gain, young Republican
From trampling on the sick and poor
With your heavy hoof
Don't you see
There's nothing radical about this
Don't you see
That single-payer care was your idea
Forty years ago
That insurance mandates were your idea
Just fifteen years ago
What's so different now?
I see one difference and it's as clear as
Black
And
White

So pardon my bluntness when I say
You don’t know shit
From death panels to deficit lies
You’ve flooded the population
With fear and misinformation
You never read the health care bill
Just strained it through a sieve of bumper stickers
And talking points
What comes out is nothingness

Take a look around
Sixty-seven countries with universal care or single-payer
Have they descended into socialist hell?
Or are their life expectancies better than ours?
I wonder
How you'll tell the 20 year old cancer patient
That his insurance policy has been rescinded
Or that his lifetime cap has been reached
And they'll be no more care

Welcome to Waterloo, my friends

Are you proud?

This Mortal Coil or Of the Flesh

The tattooed man would tell you that flesh is a canvas.
The scientist, that flesh is encasement for organs and bones.
The preacher, that it covers the soul and houses sin.
The boy tells me that my flesh is soft and inviting
By painting my body with his eyes
Delineating what is perceived
With an artistic suggestion.
I tell him not many people
Can say “screw art”
And literally mean it.

~Rachel Pratt

POETRY WORKSHOPS

Thursday, April 1 –
For Laurel – Cory A, Eric S
For Cory – Erica A, Maria S
For Eric – Maria A, Sarah S
For Maria – Sarah A, Matt, S
For Sarah – Matt A, Leah A. S
For Matt – Leah A. A, Laurel S.
For Leah A. – Laurel A, Cory S

Tuesday, April 6
For Jase – Kevin A, Megan S
For Kevin – Megan A, James S
For Megan – James A, Jessica S
For James – Jessica A, Nate S
For Jessica – Nate A, Jill S
For Nate – Jill A, Tommy S
For Jill – Tommy A, Jase S
For Tommy – Jase A, Kevin S

Thursday, April 8
For Alan – Rachel A, Hannah S
For Rachel – Hannah A, Rick S
For Hannah – Rick A, Leah B. S
For Rick – Leah B. A, Sean S
For Leah B. – Sean A, Alissa S
For Sean – Alissa A, Sam S
Alissa – Sam A, Alan S
For Sam – Alan A, Rachel S


Advocates and Suggestors will write at least 100 on their assigned poems, and make two copies, one for the author and one for Steve.

Advocates and Suggestors will include at least a sentence about how the poem being discussed could be part of a chapbook.

Advocates will discuss what the poem is about and cite one important strength.

Suggestors will make one specific sug

Syllabus Change 3/23

r – 3/24 – Meet at Brunnier Gallery

WEEK ELEVEN
T – 3/30
• Readings: Laurel Scott, Thomas Sloan, Jill Thomasson, and Alan Ferden
• Discuss Cisneros
• Write: One-page analysis of one Cisneros poem [CR]
• Write: One Brenda Jones’ poem. Bring: Seven copies of poem for discussion.
r – 4/1
• No class – group meeting.


WEEK TWELVE
T – 4/6
• No class – group meeting.
r – 4/8
• No class – group meeting.

Syllabus change

WEEK EIGHT
T – 3/2
• Readings: Rick Telsrow and Samuel Jelinek
• Read: Collins, Sailing Alone Around the Room, pp. 3-83
• Write: Collins poem [PP]
r – 3/4
• Read: Collins, Sailing Alone Around the Room, pp. 87-171
• Write: Collins poem [CR]

WEEK NINE
T – 3/9
• Readings: Matthew Hurley and Cory Skeers
• Slam: One new poem.
• Conferences – Have all poetry posted on your blog.
r – 3/11
• Readings: Maria Rathje and Nate Pillman
• Write: Three-Page Critical Response [CR]
• Conferences – Have all poetry posted on your blog.


3/16 and 3/18 - Spring Break

The Sestina

The sestina is a complex form that achieves its often spectacular effects through intricate repetition. The thirty-nine-line form is attributed to Arnaut Daniel, the Provencal troubadour of the twelfth century. The name "troubadour" likely comes from trobar, which means "to invent or compose verse." The troubadours sang their verses accompanied by music and were quite competitive, each trying to top the next in wit, as well as complexity and difficulty of style.
Courtly love often was the theme of the troubadours, and this emphasis continued as the sestina migrated to Italy, where Dante and Petrarch practiced the form with great reverence for Daniel, who, as Petrarch said, was "the first among all others, great master of love."

The sestina follows a strict pattern of the repetition of the initial six end-words of the first stanza through the remaining five six-line stanzas, culminating in a three-line envoi. The lines may be of any length, though in its initial incarnation, the sestina followed a syllabic restriction. The form is as follows, where each numeral indicates the stanza position and the letters represent end-words:

1. ABCDEF
2. FAEBDC
3. CFDABE
4. ECBFAD
5. DEACFB
6. BDFECA
7. (envoi) ECA or ACE

The envoi, sometimes known as the tornada, must also include the remaining three end-words, BDF, in the course of the three lines so that all six recurring words appear in the final three lines. In place of a rhyme scheme, the sestina relies on end-word repetition to effect a sort of rhyme.

From poets.org

Sestina, by Elizabeth Bishop

Sestina by Elizabeth Bishop
September rain falls on the house.
In the failing light, the old grandmother
sits in the kitchen with the child
beside the Little Marvel Stove,
reading the jokes from the almanac,
laughing and talking to hide her tears.

She thinks that her equinoctial tears
and the rain that beats on the roof of the house
were both foretold by the almanac,
but only known to a grandmother.
The iron kettle sings on the stove.
She cuts some bread and says to the child,

It's time for tea now; but the child
is watching the teakettle's small hard tears
dance like mad on the hot black stove,
the way the rain must dance on the house.
Tidying up, the old grandmother
hangs up the clever almanac

on its string. Birdlike, the almanac
hovers half open above the child,
hovers above the old grandmother
and her teacup full of dark brown tears.
She shivers and says she thinks the house
feels chilly, and puts more wood in the stove.

It was to be, says the Marvel Stove.
I know what I know, says the almanac.
With crayons the child draws a rigid house
and a winding pathway. Then the child
puts in a man with buttons like tears
and shows it proudly to the grandmother.

But secretly, while the grandmother
busies herself about the stove,
the little moons fall down like tears
from between the pages of the almanac
into the flower bed the child
has carefully placed in the front of the house.

Time to plant tears, says the almanac.
The grandmother sings to the marvelous stove
and the child draws another inscrutable house.


and see "Ethel's Sestina," on p. 45 in Blood Dazzler

Melrose

From city lights to starry nights,
512 miles till' country's home.

Packed vans and shouting kids,
settled with lunch at the orange moose.

Bakery fresh donuts and delicious local meat,
Apple trees and fresh peas.

Fights with 3 turned 9 times as long,
yells from 2 turned 11 times as long.

Check the traps to Earl's Bar,
beer in 1 hand and pipe in the other.

The blue bridge turned grey,
grandparents hair turned white.

Beautiful river to swim and skate,
pollution left carp irate.

The sweet aroma of summer and winter,
the stench of turkeys and smog.

Crunchies not so much anymore,
apple trees gone forever.

The Class Schedule

Poetry Writing - English 306/406

A poem can be said to have two subjects, the initiating or triggering subject, which starts the poem or “causes” the poem to be written, and the real or generated subject, which the poem comes to say or mean, and which is generated or discovered in the poem during the writing. That’s not quite right because it suggests that the poet recognizes the real subject. The poet may not be aware of what the real subject is but only have some instinctive feeling that the poem is done.
Young poets find it difficult to free themselves from the initiating subject. The poet puts down the title: “Autumn Rain.” He [or she] finds two or three good lines about Autumn Rain. Then things start to break down. He [or she] cannot find anything more to say about Autumn Rain so he [or she] starts making up things, he strains, he goes abstract, he starts telling us the meaning of what he has already said. The mistake he is making, of course, is that he feels obligated to go on talking about Autumn Rain, because that, he feels, is the subject. Well, it isn’t the subject. You don’t know what the subject is, and the moment you run out of things to say about Autumn Rain start talking about something else. In fact, it’s a good idea to talk about something else before you run out of things to say about Autumn Rain.
Don’t be afraid to jump ahead. There are a few people who become more interesting the longer they stay on a single subject. But most people are like me, I find. The longer they talk about one subject, the duller they get.
Richard Hugo, The Triggering Town

REQUIRED BOOKS:
Blood Dazzler, by Patricia Smith
Loose Woman, by Sandra Cisneros
New & Selected Poems, by Gary Soto
Sailing Alone Around the Room, by Billy Collins
She Had Some Horses, by Joy Harjo
The Oxford Book of American Poetry, edited by David Lehman
The Poet’s Companion, edited by Kim Addonizio and Dorianne Lux


WEEK ONE
T – 1/12
• Introduction to Class
R – 1/14
• Read: Poet’s Companion: “Writing and Knowing,” p. 19 [RR]
• Read: “Sizing Up the Sparrows,” p. 1, Soto; “Introduction to Poetry,” p. 6, and “Tuesday, June 4, 1991,” p. 58, Collins; “I Let Him Take Me,” p. 11, Cisneros; “The Poem I Just Wrote,” p. 58, Harjo; “Ars Poetica,” MacLeish, p. 385, Oxford.

WEEK TWO
T – 1/19
• Read: Poet’s Companion: “The Music of the Line,” p. 104 [RR]
• Write: Two poems: Poem One: Bring 20 copies (large group) [PP]
Poem Two: Bring 1 copy (instructor) [PP]
R – 1/21
• Readings: Maria Rathje and Nate Pillman
• Workshop Poems
• Read: Poet’s Companion: “Images,” p. 85 [RR]
• Read: Blood Dazzler, “Prologue”- p. 23



WEEK THREE
T – 1/26
• Readings: Jase Rohde and Jessica Slavik
• Workshop Poems
• Read: Poet’s Companion: “Simile and Metaphor,” p. 94 [RR]
• Read: Blood Dazzler, pp. 24-49
• Write: Smith poem.
R – 1/28
• Readings: Laurel Scott and Thomas Sloan
• Workshop Poems
• Read: Poet’s Companion: “Voice and Style,” p. 115 [RR]
• Read: Blood Dazzler, pp. 50-end.
• Write: Smith poem.

WEEK FOUR
T – 2/2 –
• NO CLASS.
• Attend Symposium one Wildness event. Patricia Smith reading from 1:00-2:00, Sunday, January 31, in the Memorial Union Sunroom.
• Write: 250 response to Symposium
R – 2/4
• Write “family” poem [PP]
• Read: Poet’s Companion: “The Family: Inspiration and Obstacle,” p. 30

WEEK FIVE
T – 2/9
• Readings: Jill Thomasson and Alan Ferden
• Read & Discuss: New and Selected Poems, Soto. Pp. 6-92
• Write: Soto poem [PP]

R – 2/11
• Readings: Sarah Baughman and Megan Martuelllo
• Read & Discuss: New and Selected Poems, Soto, pp. 93-177
• Write: Three-page critical response [CR]

WEEK SIX
T – 2/16
• Readings: Hannah Walleser and Rachel Pratt
• Write “erotic” poem [PP]
• Read: Poet’s Companion: “Writing the Erotic,” p. 46
R – 2/18
• Readings: Alissa Griffith and Michael Schneider and James Galvan
• Write: Two poems: Poem One: Bring 20 copies (large group) [PP]
Poem Two: Bring 1 copy (instructor) [PP]


WEEK SEVEN
T – 2/23
• Readings: Leah Baugh and Sean Roper
• Workshop Poems
• Conferences – Bring poetry portfolio and S and A comments
R – 2/25
• Readings: Eric Fackrell and Kevin Conrad and Megan Marturello
• Workshop Poems
• Conferences – Bring poetry portfolio and S and A comments

WEEK EIGHT
T – 3/2
• Readings: Rick Telsrow and Samuel Jelinek
• Read: Collins, Sailing Alone Around the Room, pp. 3-83
• Write: Collins poem [PP]
r – 3/4
• Read: Collins, Sailing Alone Around the Room, pp. 87-171
• Write: Three-Page Critical Response [CR]

WEEK NINE
T – 3/9
• Readings: Matthew Hurley and Cory Skeers
• Write: Two poems: Poem One: Bring 7 copies (small group) [PP]
Poem Two: Bring 1 copy (instructor) [PP]
r – 3/11
• Readings: Maria Rathje and Nate Pillman
• Workshop Poems – Small Group Workshop

3/16 and 3/18 - Spring Break

WEEK TEN
T – 3/23
• Readings: Jase Rohde and Jessica Slavik
• Read: Cisneros, Loose Woman
• Write: Cisneros poem [PP]
r – 3/24
• Readings: Laurel Scott and Thomas Sloan
• Discuss Cisneros
• Write: Three Page Critical Response [CR]

WEEK ELEVEN
T – 3/30
• Readings: Jill Thomasson and Alan Ferden
• Write: Bring 7 copies of two poems; mark the one for small-group discussion.
r – 4/1
• No class – group meeting.


WEEK TWELVE
T – 4/6
• No class – group meeting.

r – 4/8
• No class – group meeting.

WEEK THIRTEEN
T – 4/13
• Readings: Hannah Walleser and Rachel Pratt Two poems toward chapbook due.
• Write “shadow” poem [PP]
• Read: Poet’s Companion: ”The Shadow”
• Read: Harjo: She Had Some Horses
• Write: Harjo poem [PP]
r – 4/15
• Readings: Alissa Griffith and Michael Schneider and James Galvan
• Write: Three-Page Critical Response to Harjo [CR]
• Read: Poet’s Companion: ”Witnessing”

WEEK FOURTEEN
T – 4/20
• Readings: Leah Baugh and Sean Roper
• Write “place” or “witnessing” poem [PP]
• Read: Poet’s Companion: ”Poetry of Place”
R – 4/22
• Write: Two poems: Poem One: Bring 20 copies (large group) [PP]
Poem Two: Bring 1 copy (instructor) [PP]

WEEK FIFTEEN
T – 4/27
• Readings: Eric Fackrell and Kevin Conrad and Megan Maturello
• Workshop Poems
R – 4/ 29
• Readings: Rick Telsrow and Samuel Jelinek
• Workshop Poems
• Poetry Portfolio due, including three revised poems.

WEEK SIXTEEN
Final
• Readings: Matthew Hurley and Cory Skeers
• Chapbooks Due, with cover



Oxford Poets for Readings

• Edgar Allan Poe
• Walt Whitman
• Emily Dickinson
• Robert Frost
• Gertrude Stein
• Carl Sandburg
• Wallace Stevens
• William Carlos Williams
• Ezra Pound
• HD
• Marianne Moore
• T.S. Eliot
• E.E. Cummings
• Louise Bogan
• Stephen Vincent Benet
• Hart Crane
• Langston Hughes
• Countee Cullen
• Lorine Niedecker
• Stanley Kunitz
• Robert Penn Warren
• W.H. Auden
• Josphine Jacobsen
• Theodore Roethke
• Elizabeth Bishop
• Robert Hayden
• Muriel Rukeyser
• Delmore Schwartz
• Karl Shapiro
• May Swenson
• John Berryman
• Randall Jarrell
• William Stafford
• Gwendolyn Brooks
• Ruth Herschberger
• Robert Lowell
• Robert Duncan
• Charlies Bukowski
• Amy Clampitt
• Barbara Guest
• Howard Nemerov
• Mona Van Duyn
• Richard Wilbur
• Richard Hugo
• Denise Levertov
• Louis Simpson
• Donald Justice
• Carolyn Kiser
• Kenneth Koch
• A.R. Ammons
• Robert Bly
• Robert Creeley
• Allen Ginsberg
• James Merrill
• Frank O’Hara
• David Wagoner
• John Ashberry
• Galway Kinnell
• W.S. Merwin
• James Wright
• Donald Hall
• Philip Levine
• Anne Sexton
• John Hallander
• Adrienne Rich
• Gary Snyder
• Sylvia Plath
• Mark Strand
• Russell Edson
• Mary Oliver
• Charles Wright
• C.K. Williams
• Charles Simic
• Fanny Howe
• Robert Pinsky
• Robert Hass
• Marilyn Hacker
• Linda Gregg
• Sharon Olds
• Ron Padgett
• Louise Gluck
• Michael Palmer
• Bernadette Mayer
• Kay Ryan
• Jane Kenyon
• Yusef Komunyakaa
• Susan Mitchell
• Molly Peacock
• David Shapiro
• Heather McHugh
• Katha Pollitt
• Caroyn Forché
• Edward Hirsch
• John Yau