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How Adrienne Rich Taught Me To Be a Poet: Everyday Magic, Day 527

It was 1981 when, in a mildewy Kansas City bookstore, I reached up to a high shelf for something that caught me eye and found the book that changed my life. Dream of a Common Language by Adrienne Rich spoke to me as if Rich herself were sitting across a small table over stale croissants and hot tea, telling me how to be a poet by writing of “a whole new poetry starting here,” composed of women’s lives in all our nuance, gestures, fire and verve.

I started writing poetry years beforehand when I was about 14, running with the usual suspects — T.S. Eliot and e.e. cummings (who were like the odd couple to me) before having long flirtations with John Donne, Willie Shakespeare, Elizabeth Barrett Browning (I can still recite sonnet #6), John Keats (but who didn’t have an affair with him?) and a bunch of other dead…

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MANON KUBLER. PERIODISTA , ESCRITORA EN RETIRADA. A LA SAGA DE UNA NUEVA CRONICA. PREPARO MIS BALAS. EXPULSO MIS FUEGOS. AFINO MIS LLAGAS. AVANZO. ME DEMORO. VUELVO A AVANZAR. BUSCO ESTOMAGOS QUE SUJETEN TOXICOS Y EXTREMOS. AQUI ESTOY, A LA SAGA, VIVIA Y SOBREVIVIDA PARA LA ALEGRIA DE POCOS, SALUD MANON

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