Thursday, March 14, 2013

Grace Paley's pie

On the occasion of 3.14, a poem of which I am very fond for reasons I can't fully explain critically:

The Poet's Occasional Alternative

Grace Paley

I was going to write a poem 

I made a pie instead     it took

about the same amount of time 

of course the pie was a final

draft     a poem would have had some

distance to go     days and weeks and

much crumpled paper

the pie already had a talking

tumbling audience among small

trucks and a fire engine on 

the kitchen floor

everybody will like this pie

it will have apples and cranberries

dried apricots in it     many friends

will say     why in the world did you

make only one

this does not happen with poems
because of unreportable

sadness I decided to

settle this morning for a re-

sponsive eatership     I do not

want to wait a week     a year     a

generation for the right

consumer to come along

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