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Poets on Poetry: Michael Estabrook
In the “Makers of Modern Poetry” Class
She's writing “POUND — CANTOS, 3-15-2002”
on her clean white Harvard University tablet.
I notice the skin making her eyelids
is so so thin, a tiny slight blue vein curling down
above her dark eyes, like a smoky trail
through the snow, as the instructor states
in her strong, compelling voice, “Pound and Eliot
drew great inspiration from the past, both
the historic and the mythologic past.” And I'm
wondering why the pretty student in front of me,
the one with the eyelids, didn't
jot that down like I did.
Joy Harjo's Pages
Through most of my reading of
The American Poetry Review
a tiny translucent tea-colored beetle
rested peacefully on my hand.
He seemed to be sleeping,
his head down on my warm skin,
except during Joy Harjo's pages.
He likes her straight words and her
saxophone and her long
dark hair flowing like a horse's mane,
curling and twisting
and leaping out off her head.
Then he flew away.
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