Vol. 112 (2021)
Ten New Poems by David Lehman
By THIRSTY
David Lehman's impact on poetry in America as a poet, an editor, a literary critic and an educator cannot be underestimated. His highly influential series, The Best American Poetry, founded by him in 1988, is the driving force and the glue that keeps the lantern lit for American poets as they progress in their careers.
His Oxford Book of American Poetry is an unparalleled classic and his personal output as a poet has been collected and published by Scribners, Princeton University Press, Doubleday, the University of Michigan Press, and the University of Pittsburgh Press, among others.
His honors include fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation, the Ingram Merrill Foundation, the National Endowment for the Arts, an award in literature from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, and a Lila Wallace-Reader's Digest Writer's Award.
His most recent book of poetry, The Morning Line, was released this past fall during the COVID-19 pandemic.
Stay Thirsty Magazine is honored to present the following ten, never-before-published, original poems by David Lehman and to continue our special relationship with him that began with a Conversation in the Fall 2014 edition of our magazine.
From my work-in-progress, which will reflect my practice
of writing a poem every day since August 1, 2020.
-- David Lehman on the following ten poems.
Mudcat
(June 12, 2021)
Mudcat Grant died today
possessor of one of the great baseball monikers
victor in game six of the 1965 World Series
the year Koufax refused to pitch game one
because Yom Kippur fell on that day
and did more for Judaism with that one gesture than
even Harry Belafonte singing Hava Negilla,
but I stray from the point,
the passing of Jim “Mudcat” Grant
who won twenty games that season,
and even though he pitched for the opposition
I couldn’t help admiring him
on the mound on the day before
Koufax shut out the Twins on two days’ rest
The Master of Gamblers (II)
(June 23, 2021)
You begin with a title,
“The Master of Gamblers”
by Caravaggio,
and you run with the idea,
the words, not the painting:
a school for gamblers
with majors in casino
(roulette, poker, blackjack)
and track management,
the stock market,
and the aesthetics
of athletics (the next big thing)
with required readings
in Pascal, Baudelaire,
Dostoyevsky and
mandatory viewings
of Guys and Dolls
and The Cincinnati Kid.
The French Revolution
(July 15, 2021)
The French Revolution
still leads the league
with the Russian Revolution
a distant second
and the gap is widening
as the Jacobins stage an uprising
while the Russians renounce the Soviet idea
(except for the KGB)
and we wonder: can we expect
dictators along the lines of Napoleon before long,
and what about Metternich and the Congress of Vienna?
Karma
(July 17, 2021)
“You had a mentor,”
Stacey said. “I had a tormentor,
which can also be good for you
in the long run
in some crazy Karma-centric way
if it doesn’t give you cancer.”
Mahler’s Second: The Scherzo
for Jamie Katz
(July 22, 2021)
The E-flat clarinet in the scherzo
And the music glides away.
The interruption of a fanfare
Announces the revolution
Not in America or Europe
But in the sublime heights of longing.
You hear it just once and then return
To your fairy-tale life. The heart
Ticks too fast for the chest that lodges it,
And the dancers you see in the window,
Holding their partners as in a forties flick,
Dance to music you cannot hear.
And then breaks the wave.
Eyes Like Jewels
(July 25, 2021)
Living with Johnny Dog Lehman,
an old man gets to feel like a young father,
admiring the boy’s natural instincts
and his amiable personality, urges, needs,
unselfconscious as he takes a treat
like a treasure to a favorite spot
on the carpet, or when he stares at me
at night, his eyes ablaze like jewels.
And the sun never sets but he gets
the most aromatic pleasure
in an inch of grass.
Mahler’s Jubilation
(August 9, 2021)
When they’re certain no one’s watching,
the flowers wave like pennants
in the stadium’s warm breeze;
the beasts stop what they’re doing
and listen; then the dogs leap and frolic,
and the cellos of summer take over;
the birds atop the tallest white pines,
black walnuts, Eastern red cedars
and Japanese maples sing the chorus,
and spears of grass dance in glee as if they knew
life beyond death because death precedes life,
an epiphany absent of human logic;
and banished is the sadness
that returns when we awake.
A Pride of Lions
(August 10, 2021)
A pride of lions beats a murder of crows,
An unkindness of ravens, a bevy of bees.
The words say one thing:
A pride of lions is a celebration of the month;
An unkindness of ravens the title for a murder mystery;
A bevy of bees buzzes on the body
Of the beautiful actress posing for a shot.
Meanwhile, the yellow-jackets gather
Around the fallen sparrow
That broke its neck smashing into the window.
Black Mood
(August 24, 2021)
Sometimes a black mood comes over you
For no reason whatever.
Then you think about it
And you know there are reasons aplenty.
If you were asked you could make a list:
Secular (Afghanistan), personal (toothache),
Professional (the poetry racket), the disloyalty
Of a so-called friend, the cruelty of an ex-boss.
But the truth is you’re in a black mood
Because that’s the way it is,
And if you were happy it would be despite
That long list of grievances,
Because you sneaked a look in the mirror
Before popping a needed pill
And you know there’s no good reason,
And now for the reading of the will.
Midnight
(August 26, 2021)
The day begins with a headache and two men on base
In the tenth inning. Swing and a miss, oh and two.
“Tipsy” is a word that sounds bubbly as it should
Unlike “drunk,” “stinking” or even “plastered,”
None of which are non-judgmental,
So naturally, when I’m on a bender or a spree,
At midnight I admit my bateau is ivre,
And I had better drink another quart of lemonade,
My hangover remedy from way back,
Mixed with ginger beer, Perrier, and a lot of ice,
Plus a good night’s sleep, with a base hit to center field
To win the game in the sixteenth inning,
And a visit from my mother.
Links:
A Conversation with Poet and Editor David Lehman - Stay Thirsty Magazine (Fall 2014)