Friday, 10 April 2009

Sporty Spicer

In lieu of relevant thesis work I have been continuing my reading of American poets who wrote a little about baseball, and am on Jack Spicer. This is one:

For Jack

Tell everyone to have guts
Do it yourself
Have guts until the guts
Come through the margins
Clear and pure
Like love is.
The word changes
grows obscure
Like someone
In the coldness of the scarey night air
I want your voice.

This is an 'admonition' from Admonitions and is addressed to Spicer himself, of course. Try rewriting this poem using a word of your own for every one of Spicer's, but without just making each its opposite or equivalent. Harder than it looks.

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