Off and On (new poem)

Off and On

Diana Senechal

I shuffled out of my slippers
and curled my toes into the pine.

Someone else, having donned
them, now heads out onto

the early hour-lit stones
in the steam of rain, the blur

of a day hesitating with form.
I do not long after them.

What are those slippers? you ask.
What do they represent?

Ah, something you’ll never
guess—that’s the whole point—

because I’m still wearing them,
still need them, still find warmth

in their matted plush, wouldn’t
lose them for the world

(well, maybe for some piece
of the world, but not all of it;

no one in their corrected
mind wants everything).

There is something in each
of us that moves and stops,

both at once, that loses
forever and forever keeps.

Soft be the soles that tap
the perpetual barefoot beat.

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9 Comments

  1. Good lord I love this. Shared it with a friend of mine who is herself a brilliant poet, and she immediately wrote to me wanting to call to discuss it. So much to love here. I am impressed with the care with which you write, Diana. Corrected, for example, the participial form. Perfect. And unusual. What is this literary technique called, when one changes the cliched phrase and makes it new and powerful again? the Renaissance-era makers of rhetorics had a name for it, and Erasmus would have known it and exemplified it in his Colloquies for schoolkids.

    Reply
    • Thank you, Bob, for all of this! I will reply more tomorrow.

      Reply
    • Now for a fuller reply: Bob, I am glad that the poem came across so strongly to you and your friend! This came just as I had two poems rejected without comment after a three-and-a-half-month wait for an answer. Getting poems published by journals takes patience, but I think a certain kind of friction also has to build–something that makes the poems harder to reject offhand.

      I had a lot of fun with “corrected.” It is actually a correction of a correction: a buried reference to the dialogue between Desdemona and Emilia in Othello, where Desdemona declares that she would not cheat on her husband for all the world, and Emilia (taking up the cliched phrase) replies that she would, if it were in fact for “all the world”: “In troth, I think I should; and undo’t when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring, nor for measures of lawn, nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition; but for the whole world,–why, who would not make her husband a cuckold to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for’t.” The poem then “corrects” Emilia’s correction of Desdemona; I was going to say, “no one in their right / mind wants everything,” but then “corrected” hit me. I didn’t expect the Othello reference to come through at all–but I did hope to give a few cliches a good dusting, which in fact came about!

      I don’t consider this poem a Glück imitation or homage, but I think there’s a hint of Glück in it. For instance, in her collection Faithful and Virtuous Night, “The Melancholy Assistant” ends:

      “Outside the snow was falling,
      the landscape changing into a series
      of bland generalizations
      marked here and there with enigmatic
      shapes where the snow had drifted.
      The street was white, the various trees were white—
      Changes of the surface, but is that not really
      all we ever see?”

      Reply
  2. Unhappy with myself that I missed the allusion to Othello, but that is delicious! And the correction of the correction, wonderful. So artful!

    And yes, since Kant, most people who care about such matters have been clear enough about the fact that that is all we ever see, and not even that, lol. It’s so much fun to know of these allusions in your work. Perhaps consider footnoting them, as Eliot did?

    THANK YOU! xoxoxoxo

    Reply
  3. Here I used, instead of footnotes, a little introduction:

    Sappho Speaks across the Ages to Her Lost Love

    Reply

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  • “Setting Poetry to Music,” 2022 ALSCW Conference, Yale University

  • Always Different

  • ABOUT THE AUTHOR

     

    Diana Senechal is the 2011 winner of the Hiett Prize in the Humanities and the author of Republic of Noise: The Loss of Solitude in Schools and Culture (2012) and Mind over Memes: Passive Listening, Toxic Talk, and Other Modern Language Follies (2018), as well as numerous poems, stories, songs, essays, and translations. In April 2022, Deep Vellum published her translation of Gyula Jenei's 2018 poetry collection Mindig Más. For more about her writing, see her website.

    Since November 2017, she has been teaching English, American civilization, and British civilization at the Varga Katalin Gimnázium in Szolnok, Hungary, where she, her school, and the Verseghy Library founded an annual Shakespeare festival.

  • INTERVIEWS AND TALKS

    On April 26, 2016, Diana Senechal delivered her talk "Take Away the Takeaway (Including This One)" at TEDx Upper West Side.
     

    Here is a video from the Dallas Institute's 2015 Education Forum.  Also see the video "Hiett Prize Winners Discuss the Future of the Humanities." 

    On April 19–21, 2014, Diana Senechal took part in a discussion of solitude on BBC World Service's programme The Forum.

  • ABOUT THIS BLOG

    All blog contents are copyright © Diana Senechal. Anything on this blog may be quoted with proper attribution. Comments are welcome.

    On this blog, Take Away the Takeaway, I discuss literature, music, education, and other things. Some of the pieces are satirical and assigned (for clarity) to the satire category.

    When I revise a piece substantially after posting it, I note this at the end. Minor corrections (e.g., of punctuation and spelling) may go unannounced.

    Speaking of imperfection, my other blog, Megfogalmazások, abounds with imperfect Hungarian.

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