Brooklyn resident Tracy K. Smith turned 40 years old and won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry the same day, April 16th.
Monday was a really big day for Brooklyn poet Tracy K. Smith — she turned 40 and won a Pulitzer Prize.
Smith was honored for the collection “Life on Mars,” which she wrote in her Boerum Hill home.
“Oh gosh, it’s been so exciting,” said Smith, who teaches creative writing at Princeton University.
“I feel like it’s a gift for any writer to be recognized like this.”
Smith said “Life on Mars,” published by small Minnesota press Graywolf, was inspired in part by her father, who was an engineer on the Hubble space telescope and died in 2008.
Smith was
interviewed yesterday on WNYC where listeners were challenged to compose a poem in the voice of someone in the news. Given the short time frame involved, the
entries are remarkably evocative, poignant and expressive. Some are heartbreaking.
Here is a sampling from some of the listener poets:
Susan McHale asks us to guess who is speaking in this poem. But we all know.
I could have been the President
I could have been his son
I could have had a lot of things
But now my life is done
I could have gone to Harvard Law
I could have traveled far
I could have said good bye to Mom
But now I am a star
(guess)
It's this young man speaking:
From Janet Nostro, the other 'side' of the story:
I shot a man in self-defense;
I didn't like his clothes.
I shouted for him to stop,
Then he punched me in the nose.
Now it's a national case ---
Some might say - because of race.
I ask of the media, "please do not hound!"
I was only trying to "Stand My Ground."
Another dead boy has been in the news recently. Etan Patz disappeared in 1979 when he was 6 1/2 years old while walking to the busstop on his way to school. This missing child case received national attention and was the catalyst for creating the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children.
The cold case has been revived and the FBI is digging up a basement next door to his parents' apartment where a cadaver sniffing dog identified the presence of human remains. [Update: The search has ended with no new evidence].
From Frank Ortega
I'm still 6 and a half,
but I feel much older now.
I walked on concrete that day in 1979,
I wanted to walk to the school bus stop
all by myself. Because I was 6 and a half.
They've been digging for days
in that basement in Soho,
that concrete has been broken up,
removed.
On Prince Street a boy can grow up
to become a king.
I know this,
because I have never stopped learning
even though I will be six and a half forever
Some are very biting political statements on the presumed GOP Presidential candidate Mitt Romney and wife Ann:
(Notice how I made the Romney's face each other with their plastic smiles?)
From Ann Romney via JHC:
How dare all these liberal baddies
Say that mommies can't leave work to daddies?
To stay home with a kid
Counts as work -- least, it did
If you're driving a couple of Caddies.
Joan from NYC contributes:
Ode to My Friend, the Car Elevator in My Great Big House
You are the one.
You have made my life complete.
You are the star on top of my Christmas tree.
You are home to the American car industry.
You help keep that precious heart beating.
You are the home of the American dream.
You are the supreme object of desire.
You are the most interesting and exciting part of me.
You are the object of disbelief.
You are the object of scorn.
You are the object of envy.
You are a true original.
You are the only car elevator in La Jolla.
You are wacky in a mysterious and wonderful way.
You are perfect.
You are just right.
You are me, my friend.
You are me.
I am you.
We are America!
Bob from Manhattan
'regales us with an anecdote'on Mitt's inauthenticity:
Why um, the cookies appear fake,
But no need for concern
For goodness sake,
I am equally fake
For goodness sake.
Howdy Y'all
I should get going as
My wife's Cadillac awaits
More from Mitt via maz from Manhattan, Timely given Mitt's recent
reminiscences of Parisian vacations:
The public mustn't know, darling,
that each day is a croissant,
with candles
we blow out for fun
before we exchange gifts.
We must do our best to
pretend we hate croissants.
Liz from East Brunswick speaks for the generic white male Republican:
Here I stand, a rich white male,
Elected into power, without fail.
No condom, mammography, or pill,
Abortion funding, you know I'll kill.
Hand in hand with the right to life,
I declare war on my sister, my mother, my wife.
And to finish up, Sarah Rivera from Westport speaks for Nicolas Sarkozy, about to become the un-president:
When I am no longer the president of France,
Will the lovely Carla perform her au revoir dance?
It was all so haute
When I stood on my votes
Please, socialists, just one more chance...
There are so many more good ones. Please check them out if you get the chance.