Picking Poetry

Today I find myself in the unusual position of having to pick a favorite poem and feeling utterly lost. At the beginning of the month Tony and I were invited to read at Salt Lake City's National Poetry Month celebration. It's scheduled for Weds. April 27, 7:00 p.m. at the Salt Lake City Public Library. Today's to-do list indicates it's time to pick a poem and begin reading it out loud.

For some reason I can't do it. My go-to poems are Ginsberg's Kaddish and cummings' pity this busy monster, manunkind, not. Kaddish is too long. And today I am dissatisfied with cummings' sassy ending. It reminds me of Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. I've turned to my old loves: to Brodsky, to Akhmatova, and Yevtushenko. Perhaps it's the flat gray day, but nothing I read created a spark, not even when I sang a couple of Dickinson poems to the tune of Yellow Rose of Texas. Or perhaps it's the fire raging deep within that's sucking the air out of anything I read right now. Maybe I need some new, young loves. Whatever it is, I am poemless.

Got a recommendation for me?