Close Talking: A Poetry Podcast

Episode #126 The Volta - Sonnet Week Ep. 2

04.25.2021 - By Cardboard Box Productions, Inc.Play

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Connor and Jack close out National Poetry Month 2021 with a series of episodes exploring the history and enduring popularity of one of poetry's iconic forms: the sonnet. Episode 2 explores one of the most fundamental features of the sonnet: the volta. They discuss the voltas of a canonical if problematic sonnet, "Leda and the Swan" by W.B. Yeats, as well as the first sonnet in Eduardo Corral's "Border Triptych."

Leda and the Swan

By: W.B. Yeats

A sudden blow: the great wings beating still

Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed

By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,

He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.

How can those terrified vague fingers push

The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?

And how can body, laid in that white rush,

But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?

A shudder in the loins engenders there

The broken wall, the burning roof and tower

And Agamemnon dead.

Being so caught up,

So mastered by the brute blood of the air,

Did she put on his knowledge with his power

Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?

from "Border Triptych"

By: Eduardo Corral

For the past fifteen years, six days a week, at half past eight,

Jorge has biked into my checkpoint station. He hawks

over his papers, allows me to examine his lunch box,

& then wheels off to his twelve hour shift at the pallet & crate

factory. I’m close to madness. I suspect

he’s been smuggling contraband, prescription or illegal.

He sports new toupees under a cap depicting an eagle

devouring a snake. He rides spit-shined bikes that I inspect

by taking them apart, checking inside the hollow

pipes, sometimes slicing open the tires, but so far, nothing.

Jorge always remains calm, & doesn’t say a damn thing.

Yesterday, a few days from my retirement, I swallowed

my pride, & swore, if he told me the truth, to keep my lips tight.

The bastard smiled, & casually replied, I smuggle bikes.

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