.
The Wedding Dress
The dress, first cleaned and vacuum-packed,
_Was safely stored back then,
Remaining perfectly intact
_And never seen again.
.
.
The Prestigious Publication’s Poetry
The words seem arbitrarily selected,
And randomly presented on the page.
With any meaning in them undetected,
And I’m as smart as most folks of my age.
Its editors and poets must get pleasure,
In feeling high enough to see sublime
Endowment in what most could never treasure,
And I, prestige or not, won’t waste my time.
.
.
The Joy of Leftovers
We mixed fresh veggies, grass-fed meat,
_Good carbs and pungent spices.
Tonight we’ll have a tasty treat,
_Tomorrow sloth suffices.
.
.
The New Conservatives
Are Democrats
The efforts to cut waste and fraud
__Have wide support,
While Democrats, conservatively,
__Stand athwart.
.
.
Russel Winick recently started writing poetry after ending a long legal career. He resides in Naperville, Illinois.
You obviously have a chauvinistic male point of view regarding wedding dresses. Ha, Ha! By the way, I have about 40 plastic containers of stuff I loved that I may never open and see again in my lifetime.
When I was in graduate school, I came across books by Talcott Parsons that defied understanding with such highly obscure words and phrases. He is still the epitome in my mind of one that fits your description.
Some foods need time to blend and enhance the flavor. They seem to improve with age (like cheese?).
I am still pondering “athwart” as meaning either “across” or “counter to.”
Russel, you already know how much I enjoy your chiseled snappy poetry.
Thanks Roy. “The Wedding Dress” derived from a recent conversation between two women about the irony of their unseen wedding dresses. Yes, “counter to” is the intended meaning of “athwart” in “The New Conservatives.” And thanks again for your always-kind words.
Four snappy little gems of poetry, each one neatly composed.
About unusual vocabulary in poetry — I think you’ll find that today the workshops generally forbid students to use any word at all that isn’t in the 4th-grade Basal Vocabulary List. It’s part of their campaign against “elitism” and “white privilege.” The acceptable poem has to be plain, stupid, and unproblematic.
It’s all part of a long-range de-skilling program for the general public. Many editors will not even accept a poem that deviates from the ordinary Subject-Verb-Object syntax of a sentence. And they would excommunicate you for using words like “sublime,” “pungent,” “sloth,” “suffices,” and “athwart.”
Thank-you-very-much-Sir.
I-will-try-to-do-better-next-time. I-don’t-want-to-make-anyone-mad.
I also decided long ago not to waste my time with the “prestigious” poetry publication. Your description of its content is quite amusing.
Thank you Cynthia. It actually was difficult to find words to describe how bad I felt that poetry was.
Russel, this group of four (each and all) is even better than your usual. Your description of a prestigious publication’s poetry is not only well done, but indicates why poetry has lost its place in general periodicals. Decades ago, original poetry appeared in many kinds of magazines and newspapers. Most did not deal mainly with poetry, but added a poem or two or three to their typical content. But when The New Yorker and The Atlantic and others began to lead the way in promoting modernism, readers either complained or lost interest. Gradually this became clear to editors and the vast majority of publications abandoned poetry, leaving no platform for the many poets who could formerly think of placing their work in the local daily news or a monthly ladies’ magazine. Modernist poetry suits only the echo chambers likely to be read by its writers. As you show, it is an elite niche market.
About wedding dresses, you tell exactly what happens to most when the bridegroom’s tuxedo goes back to the rental store. I know of just one happy circumstance when wedding dresses get recycled. At Traditional convents, girls about to receive the religious habit go to the altar as brides of Christ, wearing a wedding dress–which is often their mother’s. Afterward the family may donate the dress to the convent, so that there will always be a few of various sizes available if a girl has none. But the dress must be fittingly modest, covering arms, chest, and back, which is rarely the style these days. And maybe that’s a reason why married women find so little occasion to wear the dress again!
Thank you Margaret. I’m sure that “elite niche” would like my poetry (which also is a niche, but not elite ) about as much as I liked what triggered this poem, so to each their own, huh? For “The Wedding Dress,” I researched what some people do who want the dresses re-used somehow — and there are many fine options – but ultimately I decided not to take the poem in that direction. Thanks as always for your great insights.
As always, Russel, your excellent poetry is sharply observant, well-crafted and funny. I especially like your “Prestigous Publication’s Poetry” which offers a scathing indictment of what passes for poetry out in the free verse world of wonky wokitude. You use consummate craft to reveal it’s utter absence in that pretentious world.
Thanks Brian. Much appreciated. And “wonky wokitude” is a phrase that I’ll remember!
Your poems made me laugh, then laugh again. My niece is getting married next month. I think it’s a strapless gown with a slit, and I cringe to think how she’ll look with her shoulder tattoo exposed. Maybe she’ll save it for her daughter to someday wear.
Thank you Cheryl. Best wishes to your niece. It appears that not many daughters are wearing their mothers’ wedding dresses these days.
Russel, you have proved time and again that poems needn’t be long to be strong. Your words always make a powerful impression and these fabulous four are no exception. I love “The Wedding Dress” for its randomness. In the UK, wedding dresses were often made into christening gowns, and the smallest tier of the wedding cake was often saved for the christening celebrations. I guess honeymoon babies were popular… just in case the wedding cake expired.
Speaking of food, I love your leftovers poem – I can relate to every delicious word. Russel, thank you!
Susan – Thanks for your kind words. I’m glad the poems were relatable.