“From Minneapolis in January”
A new poem by Michael Bazzett
Dear friends,
This week — a poem from the Twin Cities.
Michael Bazzett is a Minneapolis-based poet, translator, educator, and all-around wonderful person. Back when I was more active on Twitter, I shared a photo of one of his poems. He replied, said thanks, and suggested connecting the next time I was in Minneapolis. So, a few years later, we met for a drink and have stayed in touch ever since. I love his work: the choice of language, the wide areas of his interests, the way he can be serious and humorous at the same time; and the way sometimes — like this poem below — he can be just serious.
Last week, he sent me a new poem asking if I knew where might be a good place for it, and he was kind enough to give me permission to reproduce the poem in this Substack. Here it is.
From Minneapolis in January
by Michael Bazzett
We live in the numbness
of an occupied city
where every story has another
story curled inside its labyrinth—
and when Sleep reads
to you at bedtime, it is
the nested one that comes
slinking out to sew you,
with tiny stitches and
scarlet thread, to the mattress.
It is a story that believes itself
to be permanent (an odd word,
because nothing is),
a story that is somehow
made of white light
bent and glaring to illuminate
what happened, then tell you
it did not happen. Dawn
slowly washes every face
sleeping in the pale grey
mop-water of its light.
Yet nobody awakens
and we cannot say why.
The answer is simple. Death
has come here on holiday
from the coast, yet its cousin
Sleep remains in charge.
Our nightmare is the waking.
There are many things I like about the poem: the depiction of the macabre character who comes “slinking out to sew you, // with tiny stitches and / scarlet thread, to the mattress”; the intelligence of time; the way something that promises to be illuminating is lying; that description of “the pale grey // mop-water of its light”.
“It is a story that believes itself / to be permanent (an odd word, // because nothing is” is the line that sticks to me over and over as I’ve read it this week. The self-belief that a worrisome ideology has can be one of its most pervasive characteristics. The full wrapped-up permanence of it all. It can overwhelm.
The poem is a call to awaken. It is not a poem with an easy resolution; it stays in the tension of itself. “Death // has come here on holiday” — a magic-realism languaging from Michael Bazzett: a little bit of levity but definitely not funny.
I am sure that many are overwhelmed. Death and Sleep are characterised in the poem to great power. Michael Bazzett’s poem does not provide a solution, but I read two imperatives in it: Live. And Awaken.
I’d love to know: What do you take from the poem — its poetics, its message to you, its form, its craft, something else?
I’ll see you in the comments, friends.
PS: If you quote this poem, make sure that you credit Michael Bazzett — and you can read more about him and his wonderful books on his website here.
The Latest from Poetry Unbound
Episode 5: Armen Davoudian — Coming Out of the Shower
Episode 6: Oksana Maksymchuk — Arguments for Peace
You can also listen on Spotify, poetryunbound.org, or wherever podcasts are found.
Poetry in the World
A list of my events: Online and in the US (Washington, DC; Manhattan, Brooklyn, Kingston, and Rhinebeck, NY; Houston, TX; Orlando, FL; Memphis, TN; Notre Dame, IN; Santa Fe, NM) and the UK (Iona, Scotland)
February 2, Washington, District of Columbia, and Online
Join poet Marilyn Nelson and myself for a conversation at the Washington National Cathedral at 7 p.m ET. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
I’m directing an evening workshop on lyric address through Poets House, beginning at 6 p.m. ET. (for more info, click on the date heading.)
February 13, Manhattan, New York
Ada Calhoun and myself will be discussing love in action at St. Mark’s Church in the Bowery, beginning at 6:30 p.m. (For more information, click on the date heading.)
February 18, Brooklyn, New York
Join me in celebrating the release of R.A. Villanueva’s newest collection at Liz’s Book Bar at 7:00 p.m. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
February 19, Manhattan, New York
I’m giving a lecture on storytelling and narrative poetry at The Morgan Library at 6:30 p.m. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
February 21–22, Houston, Texas
Christ Church Cathedral has invited me for two days of events — there will be a retreat exploring conflict, an evening reading and book signing, and a talk on belonging the following morning. (For more information, click on the date heading.)
I’m giving a keynote address at Training Magazine’s annual exposition. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
February 26–March 1, Kingston, New York
I’m leading a weekend retreat workshop called “Poems of Longing”. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
March 25–26, Memphis, Tennessee, and Online
I’m delighted to be returning to Cavalry Episcopal Church for this year’s Lenten Preaching Series. My good friend Marie Howe and I will be in conversation at 6:15 p.m. on March 25, and then I’ll give a talk the next afternoon. (For more information, click on the date heading.)
I’ll be giving the keynote for a symposium at the Raclin Murphy Museum of Art. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
May 31–June 5, Rhinebeck, New York
This spring, I’m leading a six-day workshop at the Omega Institute. We’ll read and examine poems and also write and discuss our own. I’d love to see you there. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
June 27–July 3, Iona, Scotland
Krista and I will be leading a week of conversation (with some musical guests) on Iona, an island off an island off the west coast of Scotland. It is filled, but if you want to be on a waiting list, you can email the Saint Columba hotel by clicking on the title just above here. (For more info, click on the date heading.)
August 9–13, Santa Fe, New Mexico
I’m leading a four-day intensive workshop at Modern Elder Academy called “Poetry as a Common Language”. We’ll read, write, and discuss poems on finding and deepening connection. (For more information, click on the date heading.)
'Pale grey mop water'- only those who mop recognise that colour. And that's the thing that stands out for me in the face of the mess we deal with im whichever country we are (UK for me).
The way to face it each morning is get up give your head a wobble and carry on mopping, or as the OlD Testament prophet Micah said it: 'to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly.'
As a Minneapolitan abroad, I am losing my mind, and I am so grateful (yes, somehow, grateful) for the artful writers who draw me in to the nightmare most of my beloveds are waking to every morning. Thank you, Michael.
These letters, from other local poets and writers, are also beautiful and evocative and important. They echo one another and this poem in eerie and convicting ways: https://lithub.com/tag/letter-from-minnesota/