IT'S APRIL!!!! (and you know what that means. . . . . POETRY!!!!!)

April is National Poetry Month. Not just this April but EVERY April. I don't think I'm understating things when I say that I would happily and gleefully kneecap the competition if I had the opportunity to teach a full-time poetry class. It's 100% my most favorite of favorites as far as Literature (and the study thereof) is concerned. As a tribute to my favorite literary form, I will post a number of times this month to share my love of poetry for and with anyone who is interested in it. If you are one of those, "I don't get poetry," or "UHG, Poetry? No thank you!" types, maybe stick around. You might see something that sparks your interest.

Now, I could go on and on about why poetry is the best thing but. . . instead. . . I'd like to introduce you to my favorite poet of all time: Carl Sandburg

I know, I know. . . . dead white dude. It goes against my literary grain to have this guy be my favorite but. . . here we are. In this article, Sandburg is described as "A Workingman's Poet" and, I suppose, that's a fair statement considering his poetic treatment of the working class in many poems. Like most folks, my first experience with Sandburg was reading "Chicago." I was actually prepping it for an American Lit. Class. Can you believe I NEVER read Sandburg in 7 years and 2 degree's worth of college?!?! Yeah. . . me neither. If you've ever been to Chicago, the poem just hits. Even today it's perfect.

Anyone who knows anything about Sandburg has read this poem. I love the way the first and third stanza are so. . . brutal. . . like someone getting punched. The whole poem flows like a boxing match. And. . . that is exactly what Chicago still feels like. It's raw and frenetic in this crazy, powerful, and affirming way.

Having said that, my favorite Sandburg poem is actually really short. It's delicate and lovely.

Which, leads me to my biggest "gripe" about how people approach poetry. As far as I'm concerned, Poetry is ALL about perspective, experience, and life lived. . . much more so than prose. If you've never been to Chicago, you can "appreciate" the poem. You can study it. But--and I'll die on this hill--you'll never really FEEL it the way someone who's been there would. Likewise, If you've had your head in a hole for your entire life and have never seen fog or a cat, my most favorite of Sandburg's works would be completely wasted on you. Honestly, I could post every single one of Sandburg's poems here. I love all of them for one reason or another.

This year I learned that Carl Sandburg's home is a National Historic Site. I'm pretty embarrassed that I didn't know this about my all-time-most-favorite poet. However. . . I might feel a bit of a roadtrip coming on. In closing, I'll leave you all with another poem. The thing I like about this one is that it reminds me of that Johnny Cash song, "I've Been Everywhere,"