You can see James Duncan’s poems in the current issue. I couldn’t link it from my ipad so here’s the address:
I like when things don’t make sense. I especially like when people get angry about things that don’t make sense. In James Duncan’s poem No Sunday Delivery we have a narrator who’s mad cause someone stole his mailbox….but the anger seems unwarranted if this is taking place on a Sunday when things don’t get delivered anyways….
I like how everything seems to reference every other image in the piece….the birds in flight connect with the crying babies because I think of a stork who delivers babies and the stamps for sunlight remind me of a fresh begging and of course the play on the word stamps as a verb and the currency we use to mail things….I’m not quite sure what this piece is about but having everything reference each other and a few unstable spacings around the piece give me some kind of poetic pleasure….
James’s other poem in the issue, Waiting for the Artist to Arrive Is a little more concrete and narrative. It’s a kind of ars poetica and celebrates the similarities of hanging out in Astoria and an Edward Hopper scene of people doing there daily routine and sometimes that quick glimpse into a brief moment of someone’s life.
I don’t know Manhattan well enough (does anyone really?) to know if they would actually line around the block “to catch a glimpse at that thousand word painting of checkerboard broken windows” but considering the state of reality television today he may not be too far off…