![[encore] 9: Portrait of the Alcoholic with Withdrawal by Kaveh Akbar — The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily cover](https://img.apmcdn.org/58ae7bff0c2431b581e55cd248019f276413c8c0/square/c05006-20250530-20250603-slowdown-2000.jpg)
Loading summary
Greenlight Representative
The slowdown is supported by Greenlight. Juggling growing kids and aging relatives can be a balancing act between keeping a watchful eye and allowing feelings of independence. With Greenlight's Family Shield, you can protect your senior loved ones from scams and financial fraud without making them feel like kids. Stay on top of their finances with tools like account monitoring, real time alerts, and coverage for scam related losses and identity theft. Take care of your whole family, from kids to grandparents with Family Shield from Greenlight. Sign up today at greenlight.
Oregon Lottery Representative
In the summer, all of Oregon is our playground thanks to our incredible park system. That's why it's so cool that Oregon Lottery gameplay like video lottery or cash pop helps support tons of parks projects statewide like accessible trails at Silver Falls State park or upgrades to your favorite dog park in Newburgh. It's just one way a little lottery play for many Oregonians can add up to a lot of good the Oregon Lottery Together we do good things. Lottery games are based on chance and should be played for entertainment only. Must be 18 or older to play hi, it's major.
Podcast Host
The slowdown is on a break right now, but we'll be back soon with a new host. In the meantime, we're bringing you some of the best episodes from our archives. Today we revisit an episode from Tracy K. Smith's time at the helm. Enjoy.
Tracy K. Smith
I'm Tracy K. Kay Smith, and this is the Slowdown. I used to joke that being a mom was coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, then wine, wine, wine, wine. About four years ago, I got in the habit of pouring myself a glass of white wine after work. It seemed to calm me down. It gave me a head start on the real relaxation that would come after my kids were bathed, read to, and asleep in their beds. I'd drink a few glasses of an Old World red with dinner. Being able to identify subtle characteristics of good wine affirmed for me that I was drinking discerningly. It meant my thirst wasn't gluttonous or haphazard, but I could polish off the better part of a bottle by myself. Sometimes drinking it felt like I was being guided along by someone else. My thought process, my inner monologue, took different turns. I felt clever, entertaining, not just my plain old ordinary self. In the first dream I had about my drinking, I was standing at a microphone addressing an audience. Try as I might, I couldn't help slurring my words. My remarks were riddled with nonsense. People I know in real life sat in the audience after the presentation was over. They wouldn't make eye contact with me. The second dream I had about my drinking began on the morning of the day. My reputation was instantly and irritably, irreversibly ruined. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what I had done, and nobody would tell me. The dream was permeated by the clear sense that whatever had befallen me was my own fault. I kept drinking. Sometimes I had to drink more just to get to the place that first glass of wine was supposed to take me. I began to suspect there was a question I needed to ask myself. I lived for a while working up the courage to ask it. Denying it was a question I already knew the answer to. I stood alone in the kitchen one night drinking wine while my young children gave themselves their bath, and I was ashamed. One day I was a drinker, the next I was an ex drinker, a braver person would say. One day I came to understand I am an alcoholic. I consider myself lucky. The best way I can describe the change is to call it an unburdening I feel a sense of relief, as if sobriety were a gift given to me. Today's poem is by Indiana based poet Kava Akbar. Portrait of the Alcoholic with Withdrawal Everyone wants to know what I saw on the long walk away from you. I couldn't eat and didn't sleep for an entire week. I can hardly picture any of it now. Save the fox I thought was in the grass, but wasn't. I remember him quiet as a telescope, tiny as a plutonian moon. Everything else was wilding around us. The sky and the wind, the riptides and the rogue comet blasting toward Earth. Do you remember this? I introduced myself by one of the names I kept back then. The fox was so still I could have called him anything. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter.
Micah
Hi everyone, it's Micah, lead producer of the Slowdown. I want to take a minute to talk to you about public media. You may have heard about federal budget cuts and other threats to public media, but what you might not know is that the Slowdown is actually part of the public media ecosystem. If you want to protect your favorite public media podcasts like this one, visit americanpublicmedia. Org Action to learn how you can help.
Summary of "The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily" Episode [encore] 9: Portrait of the Alcoholic with Withdrawal by Kaveh Akbar
Podcast Information:
In this encore episode of The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily, former host Tracy K. Smith revisits an impactful installment from her tenure. The episode delves deep into personal reflection and poetic expression, offering listeners a poignant exploration of alcoholism and the journey toward sobriety.
[01:28] Tracy K. Smith opens the episode by candidly sharing her personal struggles with alcohol. She describes her initial foray into drinking as a coping mechanism to unwind after the demands of motherhood:
"About four years ago, I got in the habit of pouring myself a glass of white wine after work. It seemed to calm me down." [01:35]
Smith elaborates on how her relationship with alcohol evolved, highlighting the allure of wine as both a solace and a means to an altered state of consciousness:
"Sometimes drinking it felt like I was being guided along by someone else. My thought process, my inner monologue, took different turns." [02:10]
Her narrative takes a darker turn as she recounts vivid dreams that symbolize her deteriorating relationship with alcohol:
"The first dream I had about my drinking, I was standing at a microphone addressing an audience. Try as I might, I couldn't help slurring my words." [03:00]
These dreams reflect her subconscious fears of public perception and personal downfall, underscoring the internal conflict between her identity and her addiction.
[04:00] Smith confronts the moment of self-realization that led to her sobriety:
"One day I came to understand I am an alcoholic. I consider myself lucky. The best way I can describe the change is to call it an unburdening." [05:00]
This declaration marks a pivotal shift from denial to acceptance, emphasizing the relief and liberation she felt upon reclaiming control over her life.
Transitioning from her personal narrative, Smith introduces the featured poem of the day, "Portrait of the Alcoholic with Withdrawal" by Kaveh Akbar. She provides context for the poem, aligning it with her own experiences and the broader themes of addiction and recovery.
[05:30] Smith sets the stage for Akbar's work, highlighting its emotional depth and resonant imagery:
"Today’s poem is by Indiana-based poet Kaveh Akbar." [05:35]
Smith recites Akbar's evocative poem, capturing the essence of the struggle and introspection that accompanies withdrawal:
"Everyone wants to know what I saw on the long walk away from you. I couldn’t eat and didn’t sleep for an entire week." [05:40]
"Save the fox I thought was in the grass, but wasn’t. I remember him quiet as a telescope, tiny as a plutonian moon." [05:50]
The poem juxtaposes the tangible with the intangible, illustrating the blurred lines between reality and hallucination that often accompany substance withdrawal.
Following the recital, Smith offers a thoughtful analysis of Akbar's work, drawing parallels between the poet's expressions and her own journey:
[06:00] Smith reflects on the poem's depiction of isolation and the yearning for connection:
"The fox was so still I could have called him anything." [06:05]
She interprets the fox as a metaphor for elusive clarity and the constant search for meaning amidst chaos. The references to cosmic elements like "a plutonian moon" and "a rogue comet blasting toward Earth" amplify the sense of disorientation and existential crisis inherent in addiction.
Concluding the episode, Tracy K. Smith encapsulates the transformative power of poetry and personal honesty in navigating life's challenges. By intertwining her narrative with Kaveh Akbar's poignant verses, she underscores the therapeutic role of art in healing and self-discovery.
[06:10] Smith invites listeners to embrace poetry as a daily ritual for reflection and growth:
"We collectively take a moment to calm, to inspire, to learn, and to engage with the best emerging poets and established writers." [06:15]
Final Thoughts
This episode of The Slowdown serves as a compelling testament to the intersection of personal experience and poetic expression. Through Tracy K. Smith's heartfelt disclosures and Kaveh Akbar's evocative poetry, listeners are offered a profound exploration of addiction, vulnerability, and the resilience of the human spirit.
Additional Resources: