← The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily
The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily
1305: An Apology for Trashing Magazines in Which You Appear by Nicole Sealey
00:07:14
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If your small business is booming, you might say Cha Ching. But you should say, like a good neighbor, State Farm is there and we'll help your growing business. Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.
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When living with cancer, it's important to be informed and know what to expect. But finding the right information can feel overwhelming. That's why understandcancertogether.com is here to help. We've gathered practical information and resources based on where you are in your cancer journey so that you can focus on the important conversations and decisions of today. Understand CancerTogether.com helping you navigate life with cancer one moment at a time around.
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What has become known as awards season, casual conversations are abuzz with talk of the Year's movies. This yearly moment of cinematic recognition reminds us just how valuable the art form and the artists who make it are. Movies are an invitation to live in someone else's shoes, to learn, to experience, to empathize. We need these skills to nurture a culture of community, now more than ever. This week's episodes explore how poets take up movies as subjects, how the two art forms intertwine to make us feel more closely this life we share. I'm Major Jackson, and this is the Slowdown. There used to be a time when movie celebrities were mythic figures. Their lives seemed airtight, sealed from the public. You only saw them on the big screen. Some were demigods, those you saw running from the paparazzi. They existed and moved about in a stratosphere such that we could only imagine their lives. Even then, we were misled. We conflated their roles with a possibly fallible person off the screen. Today you see celebrities testing avocados in your local health food store, dispensing meditation advice on social media or trick or treating. Like I once saw Alec Baldwin and his family decked out as astronauts. Or was it Ghostbuster outfits? Today's cleverly sonic poem collapses the distance even more between celebrities and us by using a parasocial relationship as a jumping off point for a journey of the imagination. An apology for trashing magazines in which you appear. By Nicole I was out of line. Brad Pitt, you're no Elliot Spencer. I'm no preacher. This apology no bully pulpit where I sermonize our apetasis. Woody Allen tragic comedy in which I play serendipity and am blinded by you, a star Jupiter, third brightest in the night, spitting image of the sky God, Patience might be for pipits and forever a spit of land neighboring Atlantis, but I'll wait my turn. Pity your first marriage ended. I didn't mind her as much as that Jolie Pitt situation, complete with pitter patter of 12 Benetton inspired feet. But I'm not bitter. My pit bull bears your name and I call my man with whom I'm going to Pittsburgh for a wedding out his name into yours. Brad Pitt. Daydreams of you and me rivaled only by Brandon and me on peach pit counters from the original 90210. Even so, I'd wish he were you. Adonis epitome abandon Hollywood for Bed Stuy skip down spit paved sidewalks to my brownstone, my poetry pittance, your movie money. I suspect we'd do fine without combined capital. We'd be the mixed race pits on Tompkins Park. I'd be hospitable, hosting meet and greets so as not to appear uppity. Casually introducing you. I'd say, oh, this is Brad. This is just Brad Pitt. You'd find macabre humor in my obsession with pose pit and the pendulum and the palpitating telltale heart. The heart is an odd organ, a maudlin muscle, a suspect of undeserved affection. I admit I've had trouble pitting good sense against non, but who hasn't? Did you know the per capita divorce rate is 50% pitiful, like with Juliet and Jennifer. I pray Angelina was a pit stop on your way to Brooklyn. When I first saw you, Brad Pitt, I was 15 and became so ill I was rushed to the hospital. My hands, feet and armpits began to sweat as if I were riding horseback up a hill toward a love who made the pit of my stomach ache. Literally. Legends of the fall was my pitfall. Brad Pitt. I imagine a much older you, spitfire and only slightly decrepit, staring my epitaph down as if your gaze were the capital and my headstone a ghetto to be pitied. 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. Find us on Instagram @downdownshow and blueskylowdownshow.org the slowdown is written by me, Major Jackson. Our lead producer is Micah Kilbon and our associate producer is Maria Wartel. Our music is composed by Alexis Cuadrado, engineering by Josh Savageau. Our digital producer is James Napoli. Additional production help by Susannah Sharpless, Rebecca Rand and Lauren Humpert. Our executives in charge of APM Studios are Chandra Kavati and Joanne Griffith.
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When living with cancer, it's important to be informed and know what to expect. But finding the right information can feel overwhelming. That's why understandcancertogether.com is here to help. We've gathered practical information and resources based on where you are in your cancer journey so that you can focus on the important conversations and decisions of today. Understand CancerTogether.com helping you navigate life with cancer one moment at a time.