Transcript
Narrator (0:01)
It had to be you.
Major Jackson (0:03)
Dang.
Narrator (0:03)
You're not supposed to sound that good at karaoke.
Jeffrey (0:06)
You've just only heard me sing all stuffed up with nasal polyps. But now I'm on this medicine and breathing better. So this is me with less congestion.
Narrator (0:13)
Dupixent Dupilumab is an add on prescription maintenance treatment for uncontrolled chronic rhinosinusitis with nasal polyps in adults and children 12 years and up. It can help shrink your nasal polyps so you can breathe better with less congestion. Plus, it's an alternative to surgery.
Jeffrey (0:27)
Oh, this is your song.
Major Jackson (0:29)
Wish I was singing.
Narrator (0:30)
After congested you severe newer allergic reactions can occur. Get help right away for face, mouth, tongue or throat swelling, wheezing or trouble breathing. Tell your doctor right away of signs of inflamed blood vessels like rash, chest pain, worsening, shortness of breath, tingling or numbness in limbs. Tell your doctor of new or worsening eye problems like eye pain or vision changes, joint aches and pain, or a parasitic infection or asthma. Don't change or stop steroid asthma or other treatments without talking to your doctor.
Jeffrey (0:53)
Do more with less nasal polyps. Ask your doctor about Dupixent.
Narrator (0:56)
Learn more@dupixent.com or call 1-844-dupixent.
Major Jackson (1:06)
I'm Major Jackson and this is the Slowdown. My friend Jeffrey and I sipped away at flutes of champagne. Both of us looked spiffy in black suits. We were at a book awards ceremony. It was my first New York gala and so I felt like Cinderella at the ball, feeling a little out of place. We took self deprecating shots at ourselves and laughed. Then a very tall man, a fan of Jeffrey's fiction, approached with the question he wanted to know when Jeffrey visited his small town in Pennsylvania. Jeffrey said he had never, but the man said you must have in your novel. You placed the laundromat next to the pharmacy across from the square where a member of my church sells her apple pies that draw dozens at the farmer's Market. Jeffrey repeated that his story was made up a work of fiction. The man became belligerent. Oh, you writers then stormed away. The encounter reminded me of the premise of a once popular book. In creative writing classes. Its author asked the question who is better equipped to describe a town, a longtime resident or a passenger on a train who, passing through, only gets a brief glimpse of the town's residents, baseball field, schools and homes. While the year round local can name the streets, her neighbors names and probably its history, the author concludes the traveler has the edge. Acts of memory, he argues, do not compare to acts of the imagination. Today's deeply satisfying poem arrives from an exacting eye. The poet's kinetic imagination and mental roaming feel gorgeously reportorial and cinematic, mapping self reflection through their portrayal of vibrant landscapes. Big PURPLE PEONIES By Margaret Ross Big purple peonies between yellow leaves and behind them leopards passing green mountains, then smaller blue mountains, and the star's white rhinestones glued onto the rayon. She wears it buttoned to the throat blouse holding its bright landscape up to skin a button in the folds of a peony. Even the slightest movement of the arm reveals a shimmer in the fabric, and sunlit stars toss looser versions of themselves and spots of smeared light on the ceiling. You could never wash that it would just dissolve the cheapest satin, always feeling damp when dry. Along this route the train follows the river. As the river widens, narrows, concrete platforms of the various towns slow down and linger for a minute, each with its specific litter and surrounding shops and asphalt cars. The people waiting lean on sparse or dense configurations of the trees amassing toward the vacant circle. On my ticket where my mother lives, only half the seats face forward, but most passengers prefer them to the roomy backward rows there. The physical sensation of the journey is a feeling of prolonged withdrawal. It can make you nauseous facing what you come from gravel ballasting the track and its intricate edge, where the stones foam out across the dirt and the living forms thrive, kind with the spiky pink buds, kind with a skinny finger shaped green head swaying on a tall stem. Do you think knowledge changes anything? Everything looks the same at the last stop, except the office building going up has walls now. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. This project is also supported in part by the National Endowment for the Arts. On the web@arts.gov to get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter and find us on Instagram at Slowdown Show Give your loved ones the gift of poetry this year with Poetry Magazine. Poetry's gift bundle includes a one year print and digital subscription to the magazine, plus a limited edition tote bag. Your loved ones will receive 10 beautifully curated volumes of contemporary poetry and unlimited digital access through the poetry magazine app. It's a gift that lasts all year. Subscribe today@poetrymagazine.org slow that's poetrymagazine.org slow.