Yuku free message boards

Yo, Owl --

while I think "ring/thing" pales beside the inventiveness of the other rhymes, I figure it's as good as you're going to get it, & the lines involved are necessary to the structure, the turn occuring on "thing," & of course, "ring" is a given, an example of a winning poem's subject matter. So, I wouldn't struggle too hard with that part. The one line that I think does leave room for improvement is the third line. "Confessionalist," for one thing," is too much like "metricist," & you've got lots of other possible rhymes to take its place at the end of that line. I don't think Confessionalism, per se, is really that taboo. So I think that line misses the mark. This is all the more noticeable when the rest of the poem is strictly presenting the evidence, examples of the types of poems that have won. That aspect of the poem is admirable.

On the other hand, it's almost crippled from its inception by insider/outsider divisions. THEY won, YOU never will. Honestly, that's the more interesting thing to challenge. How different are we from those that win? Are we losers by definition? The poem asks us to say yes, & to despise the winners. Something in me says 'wait a tic.' I mean, I love the ending. Great little jab. But is it true? I gotta say no. I believe that there can be moments when the judging of such contests does limit the chances of anyone not playing to the perceived prejudices of the judges, but it's not the whole story; if it were, the contest would be completely worthless, & I don't think it is. I may be wrong, but I hope there is still a chance that a risk-taking poem would beat out the tried & true. In the 'end,' whatever that means, it will.

That said, I sympathize with the poem's predicament. Honestly, all the winning poems have taken some kinds of risk, all beat out other poems less attention-grabbing, all survived the sonnet salmon-run. The beef is homogeneity. You do have to notice that the same kinds of poems do succeed. Or maybe they only look that way when they've been crowned winners. It doesn't matter. The emotional truth is the only truth we make poems of.