Transcript
Greenlight Representative (0:00)
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Podcast Host (0:33)
You know how you always want to know about everyone else's money on the podcast what We Spend guests will, for one week tell us everything they spend their money on.
Greenlight Representative (0:41)
My son slammed $6 worth of blueberries.
Podcast Host (0:44)
In five minutes and everything that makes them feel I want to own a house, I want to have a child. But this morning I really wanted a coffee because at the end of the day, money is always about more than your balance. Listen to and follow what We Spend An Odyssey Original Podcast available now.
Major Jackson (1:01)
Wherever you get your podcasts hey, it's Major. Over the past few years, I've had the great privilege of sharing poetry with you and offering a daily moment to pause and slow down. Today we're revisiting one of my favorite episodes from my time on the show. I hope you enjoy this selection. I'm Major Jackson and this is the Slowdown. While slicing mozzarella for a meal we were to share, my friend Eva made a remarkable statement, one I've lived with for years. She said, it is a miracle, given our peculiarity, our strangeness, that we are able to connect with anyone. Give it to Eva to say the thing that sounds humorous, compelling, and gloomy. I mostly float in a fog of fragmentary thoughts. How is it possible, she went on, that we communicate and make sense to each other? Somehow we coexist in a tenuous space of shared understanding and joy. She and I laugh a lot. I joked. My fog melds frequently with her fog. We are one big fog. She laid white hockey pucks of cheese on a bed of marinara. Somehow, people can be both idiosyncratic and capable of communicating across the chasm of personal differences. It is both one of life's wonders and one of its tragedies. Poetry negotiates that space between our inner life and the relational world we share with others. Magically, we make plain what we feel and observe to convey what some might call a soul. I often describe poetry as a mirror that reflects back our interiority, but today's poem wonders if such perspective is even possible given that we barely know who we are, making the enterprise of connection through art deeply indeterminate and delicate. From the Crystal Text by Clark Coolidge who were they out there through instruments in the light? I didn't know and don't. Perhaps I didn't wonder so much, but now I do. But then I do not realize who I am either. Present time makes the stranger of yourself whom you do not have the charm of watching. Walk away. How do I think of myself, having long had the practice of never a mirror, false view always behind the shine of one's own hands to write a long book of nothing but looking deeply into oneself, I feel this sentence turn on the flinch of a laugh, a scorn not for oneself probably, but for the possibility of a self view. Does it wait out there in the black shine of spateless corridor world? Large books are not for oval minds. Handwriting is is not a frame for the self. A shocking caliber of words that would hoof one off one's own best known path, the prime abstraction of one seems necessary to hold the self in the frame In a life of sentences, in rooms one holds no plan to I dived at you self, but you rub me blank in all my own mirrors scorn no one owns can possess a mirror, the reflecting surface. If I walk in the hallways I will first see the light before I can identify what precisely rejects it. This is not knowledge. But then what is it? I can see the largeness of the world in a stone ledge I could then place in my pocket for all the world's care how many hunches that might prove out there. The crystal attains toward a transparency My mirror approaches face or no face. 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 SlowdownShow.
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