Diary of a Mad Editor

This may seem absurd, but it’s really much easier to imitate another poet than it is to write like oneself. Mind you, I’m not saying it’s easier to write EXACTLY like another poet, but it isn’t much of a trick to copy the style of another and throw in a few hip cultural references. It’s a damn sight easier then it is to write a credible, original poem.

Not so long ago, I was sitting in the audience at a poetry slam and a very young man from Providence, RI read a piece which borrowed from Ginsberg’s “America” almost to the point of plagiarism. It was so bad that it only served to remind me what a great poem Ginsberg’s version is. But, to add to the Kafkaesque mood of the evening, another young poet read his own version of “America” later in the night. Imagine that? Right now, there are probably thousands of poets re-writing Ginsberg, or Bukowski, or Amiri Baraka, etc. Don’t get me wrong, imitation, while it may or may not be the sincerest form of flattery, is certainly how we learn technique. The trouble is, many poets nowadays stop at this stage and never grow beyond it. Ah, but I can see that some of you are scratching your head and saying, “What comes after technique?”

Craft is certainly important, but it isn’t everything. Picture, if you will a big steaming pile of dog crap. Now, imagine that one were to sculpt that mound into a perfect representation of Micheangelo’s “David.” What you have isn’t by any means a work of art — what you have is a steaming mound of dog crap that happens to look like something artistic. Pick up almost any available poetry journal at your local Barnes & Noble and you will discover a lot of dog crap.

It is an increasingly rare event to encounter a poet who’s graduated beyond craft to the point where he has truly found his own voice and learned how to get inside the head of a poem. Have I lost you again? Okay, “getting inside the head of a poem” is a term I use for that place of heightened understanding of what the poem’s really about, how the message can best be expressed and precisely which techniques from among the many you’ve amassed over the years, you will need to communicate your poem to your audience.

A poem is like a conversation between two friends. Have you ever observed the dynamic of such a conversation? Usually, each person involved is vying for dominance. When one person speaks, the other person is only half-listening and is usually annoyed. She wants to be the one talking. And, when she is talking the other is only half-listening and is annoyed. You see, what is being said isn’t really important. It’s what is left unsaid. It’s the body language, the turn of a wrist, and the movement of the eyelids that tell us what is important. The body language reveals what is happening in the person’s psyche. In poetry, as in conversation, it is the voice that you are afraid to use and the mannerisms involved in the deception which are important. Craft is just a tool, a means to an end. Without a true voice, craft is just a worthless exercise.