ManicDDaily

It seems impossibly soon to be April 10th.  It is still cold here in Manhattan!   (I am wearing silk long  johns and a wool sweater as I write.)

On the other hand, the beginning of National Poetry Month seems very far away.

I have to confess that I spent all day working on a separate graphic design project, which is something I’m not very good at.   My slowness depressed me enough that a great deal of dancing was required afterwards.  Not Fred Astaire this time, but pure Cole Porter:

Into Porter

The trick of Cole Porter,
other than the high order
of wit, is the double rhyme.
Yes, he writes of bubble time–
champagne and effervescence,
an age’s evanescence–
which he crams into a lexicon
where every single word’s spot on.
(It’s huge!  It holds the steppes of Russia
and the pants of a Roxy usher;
Mahatma Gandhi, Mickey Mouse–
all take hands in Porter’s house.)
But, to me, that word cabal’s so cunning,
the terribly banal’s so stunning,
because of the double-barreled rhymes
that punctuate all Porter’s lines.
Alack a day, what can I say,
he’s still the top of all Broadway.

As always, all rights reserved and suggestions welcomed.

This entry was posted on April 10, 2011 at 9:42 pm and is filed under poetry, Uncategorized. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments.

Tags: Cole Porter, draft poem, draft poem about Cole Porter, Karin Gustafson, Karin Gustafson poetry, manicddaily, National Poetry Month