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I like minimalist poets and short poems so I can make it through to the end in one go. I am abashed to admit that the very act of reading poetry makes me lose interest in reading poetry.
I want to love poetry. I want to have a mind filled with lines—whole stanzas, even—of poetry to entertain me
when I can't sleep or should I ever find myself in solitary confinement—though I'll admit that at this stage of my life
being in solitary is less likely than the possibility of a sleepless night.
A year or two ago, in response to Kim Rosen's Saved by a Poem, I determined to learn by heart "The Art of Losing", by Elizabeth Bishop. It's a poem I adore for its cleverness
of form, among other things. I worked and worked and worked on learning that poem by heart. Here's what I remember: "The art of losing isn't hard to master . . ."
That's the first line. The art of losing is even easier than Ms. Bishop imagined, if what you're losing is your memory.
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