Salvage

Earlier this evening, I performed in a concert at the Poetry Foundation, featuring poet laureate Kay Ryan and composer Jeff Beal, who set some of Kay's work in his piece, The Salvage Men. Due to a major event in my life I won't go into, one of her poems resonated with me so much, I cried during her reading:

Salvage

The wreck

is a fact.

The worse

has happened.

The salvage trucks

back in and

the salvage men

begin to sort

and stack,

whistling as

they work.

Thanks be

to God - again -

for extractable elements

which are not

carriers of pain,

for this periodic

table at which

the self-taught

salvagers disassemble

the unthinkable

to the unthought.

I also bought two of her books at the event and had her sign them.

I'm nearly finished with my current reading, so I'll get to these next! I've always found poetry really intimidating (i.e., impossible) to write, but really enjoyable to read.