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Suzanne Burns

Stop the Presses: I Am a Poet!

May 25th, 2009
by Suzanne Burns

BEND, OR-

I just licked that big, all-consuming yellow envelope that holds, in its hopefully safe confines, my newest poetry manuscript. To be sent to an interested publisher in New York, a land almost as far, far away as Paris.

These are the first poems I’ve written in seven years. The first poems I’ve written that seem like grown-up, adult poems. (No, not adult in that way.)

Poetry is one of those things you either love or hate. I love writing poetry. I love reading some poetry. I hate listening to other poets read or discuss their love of poetry. Poetry, to me, is private, a little sacred, a little profane. Something to experience in the quiet solitude of your bed, late at night, when even your husband has no idea what you are up to.

These poems stem from our trip to Paris last year, but now I find myself delving into broader territory. This book makes numerous mentions of my mostly failed attempt to bake French macarons, my never-ending obsession with Marie Antoinette, Jim Morrison and Louis Vuitton.

Yes, I am obsessed with Louis Vuitton. I swear I am an aspiring Hollywood party slut starlet in the making. On a recent trip to Portland, four hours north and the closest place that sells designer handbags, I found myself on a rainy, blustery 2am wandering the dark city streets, my umbrella turning itself inside out from the wind, the cherry blossoms snowing down upon us, sticking to my glasses, when we rounded a corner and saw her! The white Murakami speedy clutch, gallery lit in the smallest boutique I have seen since I attempted to shop in Paris. (I could only afford ashtrays and refrigerator magnets.) The bag was intoxicating. Overdone. Overpriced. Overly delicious.

Are poets supposed to covet these kinds of things? I’m supposed to be stalking the rare book room at Powell’s. Or spending my money on pens and paper, or at the very least, computer ink. The bag was a rare beauty in Oregon, land of mountains and fishing and ubiquitous landscape art.

I realized that if I am ever to afford such ridiculously worthless things like designer handbags it is up to me to change the way the world sees poets, rewards poets. I want to be chased by the paparazzi after The National Enquirer runs a particularly compelling expose about my use of white space in a poem, my line breaks, my succulent sonnets and captivating villanelles. I long to call the paparazzi the “paps” as in, “Sorry I’m late for tea. The paps are on me again,” and not have one person wonder if I’m referring to something gynecological.

I want poets to get free parking spaces. Free donuts every Thursday from 1-3. Free pedicures. Free tattoos of lines from Sylvia Plath and Walt Whitman.

Is it asking too much for poets to be as revered as those dumbass athletes that are on five channels at once, the whole world enamored with men who toss, bounce or hit balls?

I’ll keep scribbling new poems in my bed, late at night, while the rest of the world is sleeping, dreaming the kind of dreams that include a combination of volleyball nets and Clamato.

Don’t worry all you other poets out there ready for your close-up.

It’s coming.

So you better not smile.

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14 Comments »

Comment by Rich Ferguson
2009-05-26 05:32:56

Congrats on the poetry manuscript, Suzanne. That’s no small feat. Now get ready for that pensive, soul-searching look in your eyes close-up.

Comment by Suzanne
2009-05-26 20:02:13

Thank you!!! I’ll work on it. Need to stock up on eyeliner.

 
 
Comment by Erika Rae
2009-05-26 06:08:22

Yes, exactly. I, too, would like a designer handbag…in which to place all of my rejection letters.

Surely poetic fame is just around the corner.

Comment by Suzanne
2009-05-26 20:01:47

I think I’d need a set of Louis Vuitton luggage for my rejection slips!

2009-05-29 13:06:28

Can I just mention the skepticism turns irony turns laughing-stock material about verses?
First of all, you are not really allowed to call yourself a poet if your verses are not printed on the wrappers of Baci Perugina!
And shall we talk about questions like: Am I in your poems? What are your poems about? Do you talk about anyone we/you know in these poems? GRRRR (reference to your holy words about “private” and “sacred” dimension of poetry itself))
Not to mention the fact that if you are sociable and like going out with your husband and your friends, if you like dancing and fashion shows, well … Thank you reading your article was like breathing pure air!

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Comment by Kakester
2009-05-26 06:11:51

Yo, I like so totally agree with the free donuts on Thursday thing. But can they be donuts from Voodoo Donuts in Portland? I especially like the maple-bacon donuts. Ooooooh. just thinking about them makes me want to walk down to the Newport market and buy something that isn’t even close but is, at least, a donut.

Comment by Suzanne
2009-05-26 20:01:02

Kakester,

Do I know you? I love Voodoo Donuts, too! (Who are you?)

Comment by Suzanne
2009-05-26 20:02:37

Little joke there…

(Comments wont nest below this level)
 
 
 
Comment by N.L. Belardes
2009-05-26 19:42:56

Ahh man, bagging on athletes. I love sports. I love poetry. I love words. And you’re right. Poets deserve pampering.

This piece was very inspiring. I’ve been wanting to write another book of poetry. I will keep coming back to your piece for added inspiration as I push myself to the point of creation.

Comment by Suzanne
2009-05-26 20:00:20

That’s about the nicest compliment anyone’s ever given me. And I was mostly joking about the athletes. I even watch basketball with my husband now and then. I just don’t like how the entire world treats athletes like the Second Coming.

The best of luck to you and your work!

 
 
Comment by Aaron Dietz
2009-05-27 00:59:10

I’ve been wanting literary figures to go through a transformation like what Dali did for painters - put them on the map as celebrities and personalities, so I fully support you in this endeavor.

 
Comment by josie
2009-05-27 16:10:22

Never. Ever. yell, “stop the presses”
Sheesh —

Run the presses!!!

lol

Congrats on licking that envelope doll - lotsa folks never get that far.

*** write a kickass poem for LV to use in their adverts and I bet they send you something slathered in their logo.

 
Comment by Bernadette
2016-10-29 00:10:25

Hi there, yup this paragraph is genuinely pleasant and
I have learned lot of things from it about blogging.
thanks.

 
2016-12-19 08:42:31

There is definately a lot to know about this subject.
I like all the points you’ve made.

 
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