A Tough Language
I’m reading Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal, Jeanette Winterson’s memoir. It arrived as a gift, straight to my door because someone lovely really gets where I am right now. Winterson writes:
So when people say that poetry is a luxury, or an option, or for the educated middle classes, or that it shouldn’t be read at school because it is irrelevant, or any of the strange and stupid things that are said about poetry and its place in our lives, I suspect that the people doing the saying have had things pretty easy. A tough life needs a tough language–and that is what poetry is. That is what literature offers–a language powerful enough to say how it is.
We do a lot of work with the tough language of poetry, and lately some of it has been a bit compromised. If you’re inclined to help us keep doing it, please check out our go fund me below, and share it widely. We need all the help we can get.
I was waiting for a bus on a really noisy messy Manhattan street corner and the sun was beating down and I’d just had a sort of difficult breakfast conversation with someone I have a lot of love for and I was sorting that out and then I read this poem, which was just what I needed. It’s not easy. It’s the tough language. It’s the powerful telling.
“Mother says…” is your prompt.