Hot Poetry in Provincetown

Who turned up the thermostat in New England last week? Wasn't me. The apartments at the Fine Arts Work Center are without A/C, but let's face it. Nobody's in her room at FAWC.

The workshops, on the other hand, do have A/C. Unfortunately, because some of us are soft-spoken, the A/C is often sacrificed so we can hear each other.

We're talking 100 degrees in an upstairs room with the windows closed. I think this is a new theory of creativity. Roast the fledgling poet until something breezy and lyrical appears on the page.

Did not work for me. I think workshops are wonderful -- certainly a workshop with an inspiration like Jean Valentine. She's generous, thoughtful, honest, and kind to each and every poem that comes to her.

But I always get a little nervous when somebody says, "I like your poem. If you don't publish it, I will." I've heard this more than once in a workshop. My answer, "Well, it's not your poem," doesn't seem to rouse any remorse either.

All in all, I'm rethinking workshops. In truth, the only opinion I value is the poet's. So there's a gnarly branch to stumble over when I'm trying to explain my "snobby" attitude.

Let's take my poem, "Sleeping with Tigers," for example. I wrote this fanciful poem more than a year ago, but I'm still plagued with it being too long and not quite right. But no matter what I may want to change, the poem is about tigers. Thus the title. Duh.

Two people in my workshop said they were disturbed that I was focusing on animals and not on the human suffering (slavery) that white traders caused on the coast of Africa back in the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries.

I suggested that was their poem to write, not mine. I mean this poem is about saving an old tiger. I don't actually think that's possible in real life, but it's lovely to consider.

As soon as "tigers" is published, I'll post it on this blog.