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Greetings Play Listers,
To celebrate National Poetry Month, we invited poet Sam Ferrante to read a poem for us. You can also listen to Sam read her poem by clicking on the audio version of this newsletter.
How to Write a Poem
by Sam Ferrante
First, every poem is a love poem. You must start
with yourself. By which I mean imagine you,
but with tiny, sticky hands, your small nose pointed
at your own grown-up knees, blueberry jam lifted
skyward, and little you demanding (you can tell
by the stomping of a tiny foot). That’s your poem: big
you reaching down to get in there, below the armpits, and lift.
Track your bright eyes: the way they follow the fish, that one,
like pieces of mango glued together. Each word a movement
towards: a way forward: bitty breaths puffing against the tank
glass, the things that could eat you. Break the line one cheek
at a time: a big thumb swooped beneath each onion skin eyelid.
Say it as you work: gentle, gentle, you wouldn’t want to hurt
her, would you? And when she points, screeching, fish! listen.
Get more Indianapolis arts and culture coverage at MirrorIndy.org/Arts.
You can also subscribe to get the Play List email newsletter.
By Mirror IndyGreetings Play Listers,
To celebrate National Poetry Month, we invited poet Sam Ferrante to read a poem for us. You can also listen to Sam read her poem by clicking on the audio version of this newsletter.
How to Write a Poem
by Sam Ferrante
First, every poem is a love poem. You must start
with yourself. By which I mean imagine you,
but with tiny, sticky hands, your small nose pointed
at your own grown-up knees, blueberry jam lifted
skyward, and little you demanding (you can tell
by the stomping of a tiny foot). That’s your poem: big
you reaching down to get in there, below the armpits, and lift.
Track your bright eyes: the way they follow the fish, that one,
like pieces of mango glued together. Each word a movement
towards: a way forward: bitty breaths puffing against the tank
glass, the things that could eat you. Break the line one cheek
at a time: a big thumb swooped beneath each onion skin eyelid.
Say it as you work: gentle, gentle, you wouldn’t want to hurt
her, would you? And when she points, screeching, fish! listen.
Get more Indianapolis arts and culture coverage at MirrorIndy.org/Arts.
You can also subscribe to get the Play List email newsletter.