There is a certain type of poem I like (as do most people I suspect); poetry which takes the mundane, quotidian things of life and grants it a form of transcendence. A bonus is it being simple, without any of the overtly scripted flourishes which can come across as contrived (to me at least).
I find those poems often centre around saying something I have always wanted to say in a way I have never been able to: Christian Wiman’s All My Friends are Finding new Beliefs (the essential questions of friendship), Carlos Andres Gomez’s Father (new fatherhood) and now Marie Howe’s What the Living Do.
I want to come back to these (and more as they grab me) time and time again, so I’m adding a new /slashpage, /Favourite Poems: Enjoy.
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