Indians would not eat them
For fear of assuming their qualities.
The wild turkey always stays close
To home, flapping up into trees
If alarmed, then falling out again.
When shot it explodes like a balloon
Full of blood. It bathes by grinding
Itself in coarse dirt, is incapable
Of passion or anger, knows only
Vague innocence and extreme caution,
Walking around in underbrush
Like a cantilevered question mark,
Retreating at least hint of danger.
I hope when the wild turkey
Dreams at night it flies high up
In gladness under vast islands
Of mute starlight, its silhouette
Vivid in the full moon, guided always
By radiant configurations, high
Over chittering fields of corn
And the trivial fires of men,
Never to land again nor be regarded
As fearful, stupid, and unsure.
Hey, great stuff, man. I'm from reddit, been lurking for a few days and I haven't seen any feedback, so I just wanted to check in to let you know that what you're doing is really interesting. I have nothing to say about this one in particular, sorry. I was very moved by "Did I miss anything" though, made me think of some of Nicanor Parra's work. Greetings from Uruguay
ReplyDeleteWelcome! And no pressure. Enjoy reading and engaging however you feel.
DeleteI try to comment moat days. Often it's just a time dor me to reflect or think about some part of the poem.
The narrator seeems to pity the wikd turkey. As if this cowardly stupid, and incapable animal isn't a successful specie. Turkeys are large and they roam in packs. They'll chase people's cats and dogs.
ReplyDeleteTheir lack of passion and anger could extend to all birds.
Back to the poem, turkeys can't fly as people think of birds flying. Is this why the tukey comes off as such a weak creature to the narrator a1jd Native Americans? The last stanza opens up a potential for justification of the weak qualities deacribed by the narrator. This reminds me of Hughes' Dream Keeper. Is this narrator protecting the wilk turkeys' dreams?
Last idea, what abiut factory famred turkeys? Do they dream of being wild turkeys?
Wow. Holey typos. It's hars to proof read from my phone.
DeleteI think this poem is one of the most "coward" displays of poetic gift I have read yet. The heart of the poem is seems to have been written through the eyes of a pompous ass of a man who shows little regard for another form of life that he clearly has never experienced connection to- nor ever will with this mindset. His use of "Indian" alone and attempted understanding at connected culture clearly brings to the light the exact problem with this type of American ideal. With pretentious commentary like this....booooo!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteThis was the toughest poem on the blog for me to read. After the first few lines I looked up the author- a Caucasian American, for the record, who I am tempted to write a similar poem about and see how he "dreams at night". I would be surprised if this man dies not die from self-created disease.
I think a lot of the seemingly dark, graphic and depressing poetry that we have read so far primarily relates to life experience from an individual perspective versus whatever this is. I am often left with a certain emotion after reading these poems of some type of sadness or wonder into the paths that led to those certain perspectives. This particular poem leaves me with an anger I rarely experience. It is clear that this poet has a gift...and what he chooses to use it for disgusts me. Unless this poem has been written in vague metaphor talking about the author himself (which could get interesting), this takes my vote for the worst chosen subject matter and poem that has really rubbed me the wrong way.
I didn't really like this poem either, but dang!
DeleteI do the the turkey is a metaphor. A bird with wings that cannot fly, so he hopes it dreams of flying. Think of people enslaved throught history, wouldn't they dream to be a master or at least free?
I also googled Zimmer and saw a pic of an old gray haired white guy, which didn't surprise me either. I didn't look up the date of this poem? I'll add that in a new comment.
I love the passion AJ! I want to read that poem. Write it now while you're still all fired up!
2007 is the copyright date of the book it was published in... That's not good
Delete