Though I told myself I would take a day off before jumping right back into the poetic pursuits, by 3 PM I was already starting to think about the essay. I needed to make a visit to the doctor, because my arm has been bothering me somewhat, and to distract myself, I figured I would take a book not related to my work. The newest book on the shelf (well, at least the newest one I hadn’t read– Tua gave me a copy of Van Jordan’s new book, Quantum Lyrics, which I finished before I left Swannanoa) was James Longenbach’s The Resistance to Poetry.

While I was in the waiting room, though, I couldn’t help but make connections between one of his essays on line and the elements of syntactic repetition I’ll be looking at. His breakdown of how varying the ways in which syntax is parsed or broken across lines has direct relevance to the difficult syntax and enjambments of Merwin’s “Paul.”

So, since my pleasure reading had turned out to be essay reading, I went ahead and ditched the idea that I would give myself a full day off, and began writing a part of the essay this evening. I’m about two and a half pages in, which gets me to about line 12 of the poem. And I don’t feel like I’ve really gotten started yet.

I don’t think I’ll produce a monolith and then edit it down all semester, but I don’t think a 30 page essay is going to present a single problem at all.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll take a day off from poetry. My inbox at work is about 120 messages more full than it should be.

Here’s the Merwin poem, which was previously buried in my comments section.

Paul

Up the sea-dark avenue
at two in the morning a shadow
comes shouting oh
you mother-fucker I hate you Paul
echoes of feet and then
I hate you I hate you Paul

the old moon is sinking through
clouds beyond high wires and cornices
the buildings creak
drifting on the tunnelled hour the call
bounces ahead along
the street like a fleeing ball

there after each of the few
cars has passed over its words Paul you
can’t get away
I hate you with my feet in the Paul
street like a bell I know
you are there you nowhere Paul

I am coming after you
whatever you do whatever you
think I hate you
across the street into the doors all
the way through the frozen
windows up against the wall

listen to me I hate who
you are nobody else will ever
hate you the way
I do I always hated you Paul
the whole time thinking you
could hold out on me that small

invisible you but to
me listen there was nothing to you
I was onto
you fooling with me your slick tricks all
the while and I hate you
where you are everywhere Paul

I go on hating you through
the roar of the Paul subway the red
lights at the Paul
cross streets out of sight into the Paul
night that cannot be touched
nor brought back by hate at all.

That’s originally from Travels. Thanks, Metafilter.