THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A POETRY READING
After Stevens
I.
Among twenty folding chairs,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the poet.
II.
I was of three minds,
Like a bookstore
In which there are three poets.
III.
The poet nodded in the steam heat.
It was a small part of the ritual.
IV.
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a poet
Are infinite.
V.
I do not know which to prefer,
The mixing of metaphors
Or the tangle of images.
The poet clearing his throat
Or just after.
VI.
Neon filled the large window
With urban light.
The reflection of the poet
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Flashed in the light
An indecipherable phrase.
VII.
O vain men of Philly
Why do you carry scarlet fans?
Do you not see how the poet
Trips over the lines
Of the verses about you?
VIII.
I know Philly accents
And limping, inescapable meters;
But I know, too,
That the poet is involved
In what I know.
IX.
When the poet coughed into the mic,
It signaled the end
Of one too many poems.
X.
At the sight of poets
Climbing the carpeted stairway
Even the whores of Thirteenth Street
Would cry out sharply.
XI.
He rode down Chestnut
In a SEPTA bus.
Once, a joy pierced him
In that he mistook
The squeal of his microphone
For poetry.
XII.
The Baron is taping.
The poet must be reading.
XIII.
It was full moon all night,
It was shining
And it was going to shine.
The poets perched
On the folding chairs.
Miriam Kotzin teaches creative writing and literature at Drexel University, where she co-directs the Certificate Program in Writing and Publishing. She is a contributing editor of Boulevard and a founding editor of Per Contra. Her work has appeared in such places as Shenandoah, Eclectica, Southern Humanities Review, and Mid-American Review. Kotzin has published three collections of poetry, most recently Taking Stock (Star Cloud, 2011), and a collection of flash fiction, Just Desserts (Star Cloud, 2010). A fourth collection of poems, The Body's Bride, will be published by David Robert Books in early 2013.