My high school buddies and I had great fun with the imagist poetry phase of William Carlos Williams. Wow, that makes us sound so intelligent. Instead, we were clueless teenage boys with no appreciation for anything resembling culture who simply made fun of the poem in our literature book about a wheelbarrow and chickens.
Now, in my mid-forties, well, not much has changed.
But in my advanced years I do at least make an effort. Each morning when I arrive at the office I read a poem from Garrison Keillor’s Good Poems, and a few weeks ago I stumbled across another popular poem from Williams’s imagist phase:
This Is Just To Say
I have eaten
that were in
you were probably
they were delicious
and so cold
I still think Williams was smoking something.
Regardless, the next poem Keillor shared was a reply to Williams from Erica-Lynn Gambino:
This Is Just To Say
(for William Carlos Williams)
I have just
asked you to
get out of my
Gambino is my kind of poet.
Other than abstaining from your roommate’s frozen plums, please know that this is not an attempt at relationship advice. Instead, I’m aiming at a little life metaphor here when I ask: Are you willing to remove from your life the things that are driving you insane?
I’m not sure about you, but my life is filled to the brim with countless responsibilities, information overload, and myriad relationships, just to name a few major categories. It is more than possible that life can be so full that it explodes like a balloon, leaving an awful mess to clean up—unless, of course, we cull a few crazy-makers along the way.
My guess is that none of us are super hot at giving up the things that drive us nuts—as crazy as that alone is to admit. Author Bob Goff famously quits something every Thursday. I think he is on to something.
If you want things to start looking up, lighten the load by getting rid of some stuff that drains the life right out of you. Even if it isn’t Thursday.
(And, regardless, be careful around plums.)
Tony and I love Keillor’s books of poetry! (And we love Williams’s poems about wheelbarrows and plums, and we are not smoking anything.) A very good point about it being hard to give up what makes us crazy and worthy of exploring why we hold onto those things/activities/people that we complain about. What are we getting out of it?
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Ha! Thanks, Joy. I’m a poetry work in progress.
And I bet Tony was at least smoking a cigar. 🙂