So, . . .
Garrison Keillor's poem today is a sestina, a rather nice one I think, but not really worthy, on its merits, of mention in such a prestigious forum as EineKleineBlog. Rather, I mention it because it reminded me of the first sestina I ever came across (one by Elizabeth Bishop), and that, in turn, reminded me of one of my favorite poems by Ms. Bishop, "The Filling Station." When I read it, I think of the mass: "father" in a funny costume assisted by several sons, colorful books, seats, embroidered doily on the table, and, of course, "somebody loves us all" in spite of all the dirt and filth that we find ourselves in. Is that so very far-fetched an interpretation?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment