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« Only Death Wows Me [by Mitch Sisskind] | Main | For Saint Patrick's Day: The Gaelic Symphony by Amy Beach (September 5, 1867 – December 27, 1944) »

March 13, 2021

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Beautiful poem. So evocative of many things - the night is a wonderfully mysterious place!!
Paddy Meskell

This poem makes us prosperous. And lucky.

I love the picture of two skunks finding each other. Wonderful poem.

What a strong poem—love its ease coupled with high tension, quantum lyricism, and I love too how clear-eyed and urgent it is. I’d like to reread it a lot of times and then write something even remotely like it. You chose well, Terence, as you’re wont to do.

And here I thought it was my neighbor's indoor pot farm again!
Splendid poem, Eamon.
Thank you!

Each word just right. "Scattering anarchy in pungent waves." ah


Thank you, professor. Love your comment.

-

This poem is olfactory artistry at its most--I'll borrow an adjective aptly used by Eamon--pungent. Graced with other sensory stimuli and imagery, "Skunk" in its highly evocative, lexical precision offers an interpretive fullness redolent of another fourteen-line structure: the sonnet. To Eamon, I say "amen."

The poet appears in person in the last line, but he is clearly present before then in the various senses that the two skunks awaken. Thanks for the experience and the reminder of Poughkeepsie, where I taught high school English so many years ago.


Thanks for the comment, Peter.

Great night images!

I encourage all of Terence Winch's BAP blog readers to search for Eamon Grennan's insightful "The Art of Poetry" interview with Belfast-born Derek Mahon (1941-2020). It's interview LXXXII (dust off your knowledge of Roman numerals) in THE PARIS REVIEW. And in honor of St. Patrick's Day (March 17, 2021), I also encourage you to read Derek Mahon's poems "St. Patrick's Day" and "Dawn at St. Patrick's." No wearing of the green required, though a spot of Green Spot triple-distilled Irish whiskey might clinch the deal. Please sip responsibly. Slainte!

A beautiful poem, and surely a conversational reply to Robert Lowell's "Skunk Hour." Eamon Grennan's images are always amazing.

Dear Everbody who made such generous comments on my wee "skunk". Thank you! I was flattered and entirely gratified to know such readers and praisers were out there in TP Winchland. It's lovely informative stimulatiung blog Terence runs, and being a beneficiary in this way has been great--all the way from Paddy Meskell's to today's lovely comment from Grace Schulman. (thanks so much Grace, for evoking the mighty Lowell "Skunk Hour"-- a beloved -from -way -back benchmark poem). Who'd have thought the wee creature would have such sweet comments attached. I wrote that poem ages ago, and loved to find from all your comments the comments told me that it was--amazaingly--still alive. Thanks again and Stay safe all.

I suppose we can be grateful that no one mentioned "Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road," Loudon Wainwright III's "hit" in 1972. Whoops ... I just did. Still catchy, I guess.

I should have paid closer attention to musically au fait Terence's posting of a video of Loudon Wainright III performing his song "Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road" at the outset of this deservedly lengthy thread of comments about Eamon Grennan's fine poem. I recall, however, that MC5 also recorded a song with "Skunk" in or as the title. And as rock nicknames go, "Skunk" has held up well for Jeff Baxter, a guitarist who's played with Steely Dan and the Doobie Brothers. I think Jeff "Skunk" Baxter even pops up on an album by Spirit (to be filed under "Dating Myself"). I'll end with Derek Mahon's sage reply to a question posed by interviewer Eamon Grennan in THE PARIS REVIEW: "Getting up in the morning is an act of faith."

I am so beguiled by Eamon Grennan's taut rumination on lust and musk in the night. This poem makes me equally wistful for some "lavish presence" myself.


Thanks, Jiwon. Great comment. May your wishes come true.

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