The Little Things

posted Jul 7, 2009

(Maxine Kumin 1925-, Jon Grabowski 1967-2001)

Maxine says I have the disease of cut and paste
which I find astounding for an eighty-three year old

I have a huge crush and am relieved that
she is caustic, full of humor, and warm as ever

The garden is alive, basil full of bugs
she serves asparagus soup for lunch

She reads a few nights later–
pages stick together from the humidity

Her words strong, her voice wavers
Victor, get me some water, she says

I go into my head
wonder what would happen
if Anne Sexton were still alive–

Rewind; Mae Swenson and Elizabeth Bishop
lunch at Maxine’s after a poetry workshop

Bishop cajoling Swenson
Maxine the mediator

Ginsberg and Frost sharing a beer
arguing about the politics of poetry

She tells us that one adjective is all that’s
needed in a poem

I’m a nuts and bolts sort of person
She strips our poems down to their juicy skeletons
hones in on the essential, throws out the rest

A woman in the group has a line about
being inside a woman

I don’t think that’s possible Maxine says
We laugh, and tell her indeed it is

Rosie, the latest family member
barks to be let outside

 

Younger poets picking basil for pesto
eavesdropping on conversations
Everyone is put to work here

I think back to a conversation from another life–
I want to pick basil, write poetry, and let my dog run wild

I wish for the love of my life to bring me water and listen
while I read poetry at eighty-three

Erika Lutzner, a former chef, is pursuing an MFA in poetry from New England College while holding Upstairs At Erika's, a monthly writer's salon and running an online journal, Scapegoat Review.

She has published in Wicked Alice and Mr. Beller's Neighborhood, and has pieces coming out in Ping Pong, Naugatuck River Review, and web del sol. She lives in Brooklyn with her eighteen year-old cat, Kerouac, and is working on a memoir.

We’ve published two more poems by Lutzner: “Cambodia:” and “Blackness Slips Through Sundays.”