A Book Report for David St. John
The Book of Gilgamesh, four thousand years
Ago, launched written poetry. Since then
Myriad forms—dramatic, lyric—seared
Raw hearts and ripened souls with passion penned,
With music, taut wit, and acrobatic
Ambiguity that caressed the mind,
Brought to our nostrils the aromatic
Scents that season and sustain all mankind.
But modern verse adopts nouvelle cuisine
Rejects millennia of recipes—
Serves up unsavory stews, flavorless,
Unrhymed melange, undecipherable
By anyone who’s not its chef. Okay!
Experiment! But (jeezus!) don’t annul
Four thousand years of tasty, rich entrees
With one debasing word: Conventional.
(8/28/10)