Pandemic poetry
"War Poems of the Pandemic
Channelling Walt Whitman, a visiting military medic records his daily observations and fears in verse."
By Mark Rozzo
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/05/18/war-poems-of-the-pandemic
This week's New Yorker has some wonderful bits of poetry, from an umlikely source. First, a pain-filled poem:
"New York
is a
ghost town
where
even the
birds took
the last
train
to Jersey
"and
the night
rises blue
black as
an alley
cat and
my combat
boots echo
across
Broadway
like gun
shots or
a heartbeat
fading into
a silence
so complete
you can
hear the
crying
voice of
each and
every star"
Who is this perceptive poet? The magazine is protecting his identity. "He has not been authorized by the military to speak..."
Please read the whole piece, but I want to tantalize you by the lead:
"Not long ago, as the world was halfway into week whatever of suspended animation, a man who lives with his wife and children in the Midwest arrived in New York City. He is a writer...He became a career military man, medically trained, who did tours in Afghanistan..
"His latest deployment was to New York, where his expertise could be put to use saving lives and alleviating suffering..."
"In the days after his arrival, he began documenting what he saw. Walt Whitman, nursing the sick, wounded, and dying in the Civil War hospitals of Washington, D.C., famously wrote that 'the real war will never get in the books.'
"The military man’s notes, jotted down between fourteen-hour shifts, are glimpses into the real war currently being fought in hospitals around the world."
Holy shit -- WHERE sre we?
Channelling Walt Whitman, a visiting military medic records his daily observations and fears in verse."
By Mark Rozzo
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/05/18/war-poems-of-the-pandemic
This week's New Yorker has some wonderful bits of poetry, from an umlikely source. First, a pain-filled poem:
"New York
is a
ghost town
where
even the
birds took
the last
train
to Jersey
"and
the night
rises blue
black as
an alley
cat and
my combat
boots echo
across
Broadway
like gun
shots or
a heartbeat
fading into
a silence
so complete
you can
hear the
crying
voice of
each and
every star"
Who is this perceptive poet? The magazine is protecting his identity. "He has not been authorized by the military to speak..."
Please read the whole piece, but I want to tantalize you by the lead:
"Not long ago, as the world was halfway into week whatever of suspended animation, a man who lives with his wife and children in the Midwest arrived in New York City. He is a writer...He became a career military man, medically trained, who did tours in Afghanistan..
"His latest deployment was to New York, where his expertise could be put to use saving lives and alleviating suffering..."
"In the days after his arrival, he began documenting what he saw. Walt Whitman, nursing the sick, wounded, and dying in the Civil War hospitals of Washington, D.C., famously wrote that 'the real war will never get in the books.'
"The military man’s notes, jotted down between fourteen-hour shifts, are glimpses into the real war currently being fought in hospitals around the world."
Holy shit -- WHERE sre we?