A discovery from down under

While surfing and reading poetry I found this treasure. I don't have time to be a true poetry fanatic, but I'll be spending some time there next week, as spring break gives me what feels now like a mountain of time.

I arrived at Jacket by way of Jack Spicer, a poet whose work I had not encountered before. So many poems, so little time. Here's the Jack Spicer poem I shared today:


This ocean, humiliating in its disguises
Tougher than anything.
No one listens to poetry. The ocean
Does not mean to be listened to. A drop
Or crash of water. It means
Nothing.
It
Is bread and butter
Pepper and salt. The death
That young men hope for. Aimlessly
It pounds the shore. White and aimless signals. No
One listens to poetry.
--------------------------

Poetry still does it for me. I'm in love again.