Billy Collins’ newest collection, “Musical Tables,” sings tiny melodies with perfect pitch.
“Small poems are drastic examples of poetry’s way of squeezing large content into tight spaces,” Collins writes in the afterward. “The small poem is a flash, a gesture, a gambit without the game that follows. There’s no room for landscape here, or easeful reflection, but there is the opportunity for humor and poignancy.”
Also for a few sharp digs.
Here are three of my favorites…
Even a branch on an evergreen
may take an unexpected turn
up, down, or sideways
and grow substantial
in some weird direction.
ENG 243: The History of Egoism
You will notice, class,
that Wordsworth did not write
“Edward, the butcher’s son,
wandered lonely as a cloud.”
Nothing came out very well.
People thought sitting still was odd.
Black and white had yet to be conceived,
Even though many days were grey
with low clouds and unpredictable rain.
You remembered someone by closing your eyes.