New York School

Everything has been coming together. I have just recently discovered my favorite poet, Tony Hoagland. I love discovering new things. While browsing in a bookstore, i was determined to find a good book of poems. I stumbled upon a book called Donkey Gospel. Usually I can tell if I'll like a poet or a book of poems just by flipping through a few times. If anything stand out, I'll scan the book to see if I'm interested in it. Immediately, I fell in love with Tony Hoagland's poems. He recently came out with a new book called What Narcissism Means to Me, and I am still in love. Furthermore, I have been wanting to go to the UNiversity of Houston for their creative writing program to get my MFA. A few years ago U of H was number 2 in the nation for best Creative Writing Program. Personally, I think it's still about number 2. They have an amazing staff right now. Anyway, I glanced on the back of Hoagland's new book and it says this, "He teaches at the University of Houston." I almost peed and my pants, and I started breathing heavily. My first thought was, "shit! Now I really have to get in!" The competition is ferocious. They only accept 10 new comers.

Remember how i was saying that I've just recently discovered this so-called "New York School" poets? Well, I was doing some research on Hoagland, and I ran across this:

Miriam : ...On influence and chattiness. Your poems are full of actual people talking--sometimes it feels like eavesdropping--as if the reader knows these people too. Is this consciously New York style or from O’Hara or even Lew Welch or just something you like that happens naturually, or?

Tony Hoagland : You are right that my chattiness in these poems is a borrowed affect of the New York School; O’Hara is an important poet for me, one who combines feeling and social wit in a way that any sensible poet would covet. In fact, if I were going to place myself on some aesthetic graph, my dot would be equidistant between Sharon Olds and Frank O’Hara, between the confessional (where I started) and the social (where I have aimed myself). They are much better poets than I am, of course, but they are relatives.


See? I just can't help but identify with this type of poetry. It's true that all the poets I love are some how influenced by the New York School or are directly associated with it (O'Hara). I, too, will become a disciple.

I have always loved characters in poetry, a third-person point of view. I think this is a direct response to my love of character and characterization in fiction. I love people...I love little things about people and characters. What color toothbrush they use. How their fingers move when they button a sweater. What their mouth looks like when they drink from a straw. Do they like strawberries? Did they ever wear braces.? Little querks. Habits. Beliefs. Pet Peeves. How did they get that scar on their knee? I love poems that show a character...a portrayal that fleshes out a fully-formed human and all the imperfections...especially the imperfections. Tony Hoagland does this. I try to do this.

I am rarely happy with the poems that i write. Only an exceptional few remain in my mental file of good poems of mine. One of them has a character. Here it is.

This is Not the First Time


Martha has lost her bra.
There was the time in Brazil
when she left it in the sand.
A pair of large cockle shells
shading a couple of crabs.

In Denver she tossed it off
as tassel to a tree. It dangled
by the grip of one clawing hook.
A tango of elastic and satin
on a pine branch in the snow.

And in Phoenix she sold it
to a man with twelve fingers
for a shortcut to Tucson
mapped on a wet paper plate.

Now, in this Dallas grocery store,
I watch Martha hunt for pomegranates
and panty hose, one hand pushing the cart,
the other bent behind to unlock her bra,
so her breasts bloom out to a bounce
like two jellied oranges in a brawl.