Ron Padgett by Siobhán Padgett, 2020
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Morning
Who is here with me?
My mother and an Indian man.
(I am writing this in the past.)
The Indian man is not a man,
but a wooden statue just outside
the limits of wood. My mother
is made of mother. She touches
the wood with her eyes and the eyes
of the statue turn to hers, that is,
become hers. (I am not dreaming.
I haven’t even been born yet.)
There is a cloud in the sky.
My father is inside the cloud,
asleep. When he wakes up, he
will want coffee and a smoke.
My mother will set fire
to the Indian and from deep inside
her body I will tell her
to start the coffee, for even now
I hear my father’s breathing change.
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Ron Padgett’s How Long was a Pulitzer Prize finalist in poetry and his Collected Poems won the LA Times Prize for the best poetry book of 2014 and the William Carlos Williams Award from the Poetry Society of America. His translations include Zone: Selected Poems of Guillaume Apollinaire and Blaise Cendrars’ Complete Poems. Padgett has collaborated with artists Joe Brainard, Jim Dine, Alex Katz, George Schneeman, and Trevor Winkfield. Seven of his poems were used in Jim Jarmusch’s film, Paterson. His most recent collection is Big Cabin (Coffee House Press). ["Morning," from Collected Poems (Coffee House Press, 2013), is used by permission; © 2013 by Ron Padgett.]
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(L-R) Jim Jarmusch, Ron Padgett, and Adam Driver attend the New York Special Screening of Amazon Studios and Bleecker Street's "Paterson" at Landmark Sunshine Theater on December 15, 2016 in New York City. (Photo by Paul Bruinooge/Patrick McMullan via Getty Images)
I love Ron Padgett and I love this poem. Great photo too. Thx Terence!
Posted by: Clarinda harriss | January 31, 2021 at 02:54 PM
I ditto the above--ditto ditto ditto.
Posted by: John Yau | January 31, 2021 at 02:57 PM
Wonderful poem--thank you, Terence.
Posted by: Howard Bass | January 31, 2021 at 02:58 PM
Splendid, gentle, steep. So glad to see this poem here.
Posted by: Beth | January 31, 2021 at 03:14 PM
This fable is characteristically fabulous work from Ron Padgett, whose poems I've loved since first learning of him from James Tate in the late seventies. His translation of Cendrars is my Bible and will always be (I own two copies, just in case!). In this poem "Morning," myth marries history--imagination's in its highest gear, clarity and direct speech form the great groundwork, fun wins!
Posted by: Don Berger | January 31, 2021 at 03:30 PM
I got goosebumps reading "My father is inside the cloud..." What deadly a combination of spare and smoldering this poem is.
Posted by: Jiwon Choi | January 31, 2021 at 03:53 PM
Thanks for the comment, Clarinda.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 31, 2021 at 03:54 PM
Thanks for the comment, Beth.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 31, 2021 at 03:56 PM
Don---thanks for that great comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 31, 2021 at 03:58 PM
Thanks, Jiwon, for that comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 31, 2021 at 04:00 PM
Thanks, amigo.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 31, 2021 at 04:03 PM
Ron continues to be the best! I am in awe of this. And I love the photo with Jarmusch thanks Terence as always
Posted by: Matthew Rohrer | January 31, 2021 at 04:05 PM
yay ron!
Posted by: lally | January 31, 2021 at 04:17 PM
I love this poem. Not all mothers are made of mother. And I love the poem's course from the first question. This mother made of mother is the answer.
Posted by: Anne Harding Woodworth | January 31, 2021 at 04:28 PM
NOW I know what poetry is. I forgot for a moment until I read this.
He's always been at the top of the heap in my heart.
Posted by: Grace Cavalieri | January 31, 2021 at 04:30 PM
Matt---I agree re Ron.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 31, 2021 at 05:29 PM
Anne--thanks for the comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 31, 2021 at 05:30 PM
Grace---thanks for the comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 31, 2021 at 05:32 PM
Fabulous poem
On Sun, Jan 31, 2021, 5:32 PM t.p. Winch <[email protected]> wrote:
Grace---thanks for the comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 31, 2021 at 05:32 PM
I plan to share this with my wonderful creative writing students at the Delaware College of Art and Design. Thanks, Terance.
Posted by: Casey | January 31, 2021 at 07:32 PM
Simply beautiful. Thanks for this, Terence Winch!
Posted by: Jack Skelley | January 31, 2021 at 10:13 PM
Jack! Nice to hear from you after all these years.
Posted by: Terence Winch | February 01, 2021 at 10:13 AM
...Would love to reconnect more fully at some point, Terence. And look at the tremendous readers you have here. (Amy G. turned me on to this particular post.) Bravo ! I just subscribed !
Posted by: Jack Skelley | February 01, 2021 at 10:40 AM
So imaginative and mysterious- love this poem
Posted by: Eileen | February 01, 2021 at 10:53 AM
I'm glad you like it, Eileen.
Posted by: Terence Winch | February 01, 2021 at 11:12 AM