When I first read this poem earlier this morning I saw it not as a poem, but as a comedy sketch by Monty Python on the BBC. John Cleese, dressed in proper British attire, is setting alone at a table in a small cafe eating his lunch when he notices Michael Palin sitting across the cafe.

Dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, Palin is fidgeting with a pencil, perhaps even doodling on his napkin. Cleese is completely unnerved by Palin's "antics" and finally walks across the cafe to demand that Palin stop the figeting. When Palin refused, Cleese grabs the pencil and breaks it in two - then returns to his table to finish his lunch.

d;-)

Perfect description! And you have the actors assigned just right. Do you ever watch "As Time Goes By" (A BBC programme, now shown here on PBS?) -- The actor who plays Lionel could fit in to this scene very nicely. [Gregory or Geoffrey Palmer, I think.] Funny stuff, denny, thanks.

Am looking forward to some good limericks on this one, later today.

Great show.

Now I have to start thinking about my Limerick . .

LOL

d;-)

It's easy to get enmeshed in the obsessive/compulsive nature of this poem - and the inability of the characters to deal with even the smallest distractions. But such behavior has always been the source of comedy. They say that personal pain and tragedy underlies all great comedy.

d;-)

It's easy to get enmeshed in the obsessive/compulsive nature of this poem - and the inability of the characters to deal with even the smallest distractions.

I didn't mention those things at all in my critique.

They say that personal pain and tragedy underlies all great comedy.

Personal pain can be the source of comedy OR tragedy OR perhaps personal redemption. I think we need to try to figure out which one the poet was aiming for in this particular poem. (I vote for the third one.)

"Cunningham’s narrator wallows in his own reaction and attempts to make us co-sign his knee jerk thinking. Another pathetic example of the kind of poetry that is little more than a writer scratching his privates in a public place."

Personally, I think almost anyone here could have done as well or better with these ideas. So, rather than taking this poem seriously, I would rather treat it with humor.

d;-)

Finally got to read this. Thanks for the early morning laugh! I can actually see Cleese in this.

Angel

Dear dwnny,

There is much to commend in your effort to take this poem as humorous. Humor (just as much as, say, contrition, which I think on reflection is indeed part of the author's emotional subtext) is rooted in a good sense of the ironic. There is plenty of irony in this situation, no matter what.

I don't think myself that the author was trying to be funny, but viewing the poem in a humorous light certainly leads to more edifying results than some approaches that one might take (and that have been taken, by some of our more acerbic Fraysters).

I agree: this would make a good basis for a brilliant sketch by Monty Python or someone of that ilk. As you'll see confirmed in my own front-page parody (to which I hope you and others will respond as you see fit), it's very easy to take a humorous approach and still bring out the pathos of the situation while "reading between the lines".

TLG - Too Little Gin...send it back to the bar...;)

wr ()()

dwnny1:

"Cunningham’s narrator wallows in his own reaction and attempts to make us co-sign his knee jerk thinking. Another pathetic example of the kind of poetry that is little more than a writer scratching his privates in a public place."

Personally, I think almost anyone here could have done as well or better with these ideas. So, rather than taking this poem seriously, I would rather treat it with humor.

d;-)

Maybe we could -- maybe I myself have -- but I wonder if many of us are underestimating this poem. Self-absorbed (like so much of contemporary poetry) though it is, I still think it reveals more depth about the human condition than Ted would like to concede. I do take it seriously, and unlike Angel, I will remember it for a good while -- which facts (as you'll see) haven't stopped me from raking it over the coals with my particular brand of humor.

wr ()()

I still think it reveals more depth about the human condition than Ted would like to concede.

Not to split hairs too much here, but my concern isn't how much or how little this poem has to say about the "human condition". I'm more interested in artistry than in sociology concerning poetry, and Cunningham here hasn't enough of either. It is a cipher.