Tuesday, June 22

There is nothing so good as cracking open a book by a poet you've never read and reading the first poem and dying a little because it is so good. Because it hits you just right. I picked up "Selected Poems" by James Tate a few weeks ago and opened it for the first time a few minutes ago. I read this poem about 6 times, out loud, and then came to share it. Maybe the rest of his poems will suck, but for right now I'm reeling.

"Manna" by James Tate

I do remember some things
times when I listened and heard
no one saying no, certain
miraculous provisions
of the much prayed for manna
and once a man, it was two
o'clock in the morning in
Pittsburgh, Kansas, I finally
coming home from the loveliest
drunk of them all, a train chugged,
goddamn, struggled across a
prairie intersection and
a man from the caboose real-
ly waved, honestly, and said,
and said something like my name.

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