Eating Billy Collins
As I rode my bike down Lake Street
on a warm summer day
I caught the gaze of a panhandler
holding a neatly printed sign in his hand
He was not unshaven or scowling,
there was no surrender in his posture -
in fact, he was wearing a clean shirt
and pleated trousers
Uncharacteristically, as I rode past him
he gave me a wink and a grin
as if we were drinking together, at Martini Blu,
ogling the same woman
But there was nothing I wanted
to relinquish - no quarters for the bus
or a stiff drink, no smiles of compassion
that would make this poem
(which has become increasingly oblique)
resound with humanity - just a squint
then a meandering shift of my pupils
to the asphalt, as if he weren't there
Like, who is he trying to fool
standing on a corner with his manicured sign
and white teeth? I want him to be a drunkard, someone
whose face makes me ponder
what did the sign say and
what did the sign say and what color shirt was he wearing. and why is it called eating billy collins.
Panhandlers in Minneapolis
Panhandlers in Minneapolis often stand on corners and hold cardboard signs asking for donations. His shirt was a very pale pink. As for the title, I just don't feel like getting into it. The poem itself is written in the same style as Billy Collins. More of an exercise than anything else I guess.
i thought you did a pretty
i thought you did a pretty good job imitating--better than i could do. but then again, i wouldn't get caught wearing a pink shirt, even if i was panhandling.
Imitating?
I guess I wouldn't call it "imitation." In this case, it was a matter of cloaking a critique of Billy Collins' public statements about what is "good" poetry and what is "not good" poetry into a very oblique allegory conveyed in a style that he has ordained to be "good" - while at the same time maintaining aspects that he has ordained to be "not good". That was the exercise I was speaking of. Frankly, I enjoy this guy's poetry, but his public pronouncements on poetry usually make my blood boil.
just meant that it looked
just meant that it looked and sounded--for the most part--like a billy collins' poem, stylistically speaking (not in subject matter, really), which is what you were going for, and you did a much better job of it than i could do.
ignorant to collins' public statements--do you have a link perhaps? i'm a fan of his.
powerful poem quite cold,
powerful poem some cold, like riding through life and making sure you keep your hands in the vehicle at all times,and being very careful not to touch the humanity, this type of incidence that could continue to bother you for years?
I had an similar incidence like that a few years ago,it comes back and haunts me every now and again what if that person had really been God?! I do believe in a way she was.
No doubt I would have been found wanting!
When I finished reading your poem I hated it because of I started to think of my incident again.I so wish I could relive mine.
Poetry should evoke feelings, . I'm sorry I understand that this not the forum to indulge in soul searching. Maybe within a poem!
not necessarily always good ones!
Please understand I am certainly not criticizing you for anything!!
Nor am I trying to preach about how people should react in certain types in incidences
Thank You for reminding me about my humanity - even if sometimes it may be kinda thin.
Being on a bicycle sure puts you in a much more immediate situation than being in an automobile.
--nonsequitor
ok
softserve - that'll take a little searching that I don't have time for, but if I ever do I'll put it in a journal entry (because it can be relevant for other poets - positive or negative).
nonsequitor - I know exactly what you mean: "whatever you do for the least of my children, you do unto me." Or something like that.