The Best American Poetry

When Ed Koch met Kenneth Koch [by David Lehman]

Shortly after taking office as Mayor of New York in 1978, Ed Koch met the poet Kenneth Koch. By this time everyone had learned how to pronounce Hizzoner's name: Koch, like "catch" but with an o sound instead of the a. Kenneth pronounced his last name like the soft drink (so that, years later, I could title a Newsweek piece about Kenneth's poetry "Back to Classic Koch). When the two tall gentlemen met, Kenneth said, "Because of you, everyone is calling me Kotch," to which the mayor, wiothout losing a beat, replied, "And because of you, everyone has been calling me Coke." -- DL

R.I.P Ed Koch 1924-2013

Overheard: 14th Street & University Place

He  #1:  So, what discipline do you look for when you hire?

He #2:  English.  I mean, a good English major. They'll write good code, code that you can understand.  They'll include lots of comments that are clear.  They'll be able to answer questions, and they know how to come up with cool variable names.

She:  Wow!  I love hearing that.  Awesome.  Go English majors!

He #2:  Good English majors.

-- sdh

 

Call and Response by Stacey Harwood

Charlie Harper: Mystery of the Missing Migrants, 1990.  

David and I are in Ithaca, in New York's Finger Lakes region, for most of the summer.  I tend to be an early riser (the residual effect of having worked an 8-5 job for so many years) and I like to take my coffee to the front porch to watch the squirrels gamboling in the trees and listen to the birds.  The first song is the haunting cry of the Mourning Dove joined later by the Scarlet Tanager and the "call and response" of the Northern Cardinal.  If I look closely (squint really, as I don't wear my glasses in the morning) I can spot the male's red plumage in a tree across the street. Once in a while the sound of beating wings announces a hummingbird in the quince bush. Last to join in is a woodpecker (a rather threatening sound, to my ears). By nine thirty or so, all is quiet but for the trucks and cars zooming by on Route 79. 

-- sdh

"There's no footballer called Plato" by Roddy Doyle (via facebook)

‘Did you hear your man, the Senator, on the radio there?’
‘I fuckin’ hate the radio. Which one?’
‘The one that’s running for President. He was goin’ on abou’ Plato.’
‘The footballer?’
‘The ancient Greek – there’s no footballer called Plato.’
‘I bet there is.’ 
‘Fuck up an’ listen.’
‘In Brazil, somewhere.’
‘Shut up. He was sayin’ abou’ Plato. Young fellas came to him. Offerin’ themselves, like. In return for sharing the wisdom of his fuckin’ years. It was common enough - in ancient Greece.’
‘Wha’ kind o’ wisdom?’
‘I don’t know – ‘Remember to put the bins ou’ the night before collection day.’ The bits of cop-on yeh pick up. In exchange for your moment of pleasure.’
‘Your moment of pleasure could go on all day, if you were talkin’ abou’ puttin’ the fuckin’ bins ou’ while you were havin’ it.’
‘Tha’ was what I was thinkin’.’
‘The whole country would grind to a fuckin’ standstill.’
‘I was thinkin’ that as well.’
‘No wonder Greece is in fuckin’ bits.’
‘I’m with yeh.’
‘Could they not have, like - just gone for a pint?’

-- sdh

I'll Have What He/She's Having: F-train platform, 2:00 PM by Stacey Harwood

Quote of the Day

"What is a lyricist except a poet who has the possibility of making cash?"

Steven Colbert to Stephen Sondheim, 12/14/2010

O My Papa!

So she says Princess Leia's pop gave up the ghost.
I said that's a hell of a way to describe Eddie Fisher.
She said I never heard of Eddie Fisher.
Did you know he had a national television show sponsored by Coke?
He was for the spokesman for Coke.
I get it, she said, but what was the big deal?
Well, he could sing. This was back in the early 1950s.
Name one of his songs.
OK. O My Papa.
Never heard of it. Tell me about the scandals.
He left America's sweetheart Debbie Reynolds for America's top femme fatale, Liz Taylor of the violet eyes.
Thaink of it like this: he was Brad Pitt and he left Jennifer Niston for Angelina Jolie.
I get it now, she said.
Say have you noticed that Liz Taylor narrates the Montgomery Clift puff piece on TCM and Paul Newman narrates the one about her? Clubby set.
I heard he also married Connie Stevens. Eddie Fisher, I mean.
Carrie Fisher's Papa?
I hear he wrote two autobiographies about getting laid.
Actually, he sounds like a really fun guy from a different era.

times have changed and we've often rewound the clock since the Puritans got a shock when they landed on Plymouth rock

Man in drugstore loudly proclaims he wants a three-pack of Trojans then lowers his voice, "and a carton of Marlboros."

"Do cigarettes in movies mean sex?"

"Why do you bring that up?" she said accusingly.

"I read that somewhere in American Studies."

And I walked away and thought of the beautiful packaging of a box of Gitanes, blue background with the silhouette of a gypsy (gitane) dancing amid the fumes of a cigarette.

Here's to the Gitanes of yesteryear. -- DL

Found Poem - Downtown A Train, 8:15 a.m.

To the author: If this is your homework, you can tell your teacher that you're published.

-- sdh

Overheard on the Elevator 11/24/09 8:30 a.m.

He (to nobody in particular):  They’re all a bunch of clowns.  Did you listen to the news?  I can’t believe what they do.  Crooks.  They’re crooks.  We should get rid of all of them, I tell you.  We’d be better off. Health care.  Sure.  That’ll be the day.  And how about that trial?  Right up the block.  Do you know what it’s going to be like? A  circus.  You think we’re late to work now? Wait till the trial begins. We’ll never get here.  Not that that would bother me.  Still, what were they thinking?  Clowns.  Or worse.  I would use stronger language if there were no ladies present.  And this is going to be some winter.   I don’t even read the paper anymore. It makes me sick.  Of course nobody reads anymore so I guess I’m no different.  But this craziness has to end.  We never should have gone in there in the first place.  If they asked me.

She (about to exit):  Why don’t you shut up for once?  You think you could do a better job?  Give it a try and then complain.

He (after door closes):  Geez. What’s her problem?  I’m just saying. . .

 

-- sdh