REELY'S POETRY BLOG

Here’s a poem from New Jersey poet, Jack Wiler, that I came upon today searching for a fun poem to read. Jack’s poetry book, Fun Being Me: Poems (Notable Voices), turned up in my search, which led me not only to his website, but also to a blog on poetryfoundation,org, that described Jack as “affable and quick with that New Jersey working class wit.”

“WTF! Was that a compliment?” I pondered.

“Oh, you are oversensitive,” said a voice from somewhere outside New Jersey.

Ah, well, on to the poem about people, insects and rodents through the eyes of an exterminator:

We Monsters by Jack Wiler

At work every day for weeks I’ve been drowning.
People pestering me for answers to questions that have
answers they don’t want.

Yes, you have mice.
Yes, you have cockroaches.
Yes, you live in a nice apartment.
Yes, your apartment has a high rent
and you are an important person.
Yes, you are smart.
yes and yes and yes again.

But, no.
Think about this for a minute.
You live in New York. …

Read the rest on Jack Wiler’s website where he not only has more of his own poetry, but features others as ‘the poet of the moment.’

“I doubt that there are in the whole world a thousand men who actually read long poems with pleasure and these are chiefly senile “ ~ H. L. Mencken

Any poem over 100 lines was a long poem to Mr. Mencken, but in spite of being such a great poetry lover, I must admit that I too prefer short poems. Often in school, I thought that some poems were only included in the curriculum just because the teachers had been tortured with them when they went to school. Consequently I tend not to put too many long poems on Reely’s Poetry Pages.

The Song of Hiawatha is one long long poem. Now, don’t get me wrong. There are some parts of it I actually like and know by heart:

By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
Daughter of the Moon …

I know more but that’s all I ever had to say and the kids would groan and take off. They never knew about the Naked Bear and the lullabye — ewa-yea my little owlet — because they just wouldn’t stick around to hear it.

Longfellow had another extraordinarily long one with Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie. His son wrote this recollection: There was a man at Newsport who, after being introduced to my father, said, in the most impressive manner, “Oh! Mr. Longfellow, I have long wished to meet you, as I am one of the few people who appreciate your ‘Evangeline.’”
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