But of course, the scene described in this poem, as an answer, is impossible, and that's what makes it beautiful.
Because somehow it gets at the way "Kodak" becomes synonymous with cameras, all while violating every rule of linear time and cause and effect you can muster.
So the whole thing is suspended in this weird other space-time place, and Scrabble becomes a ouija set that doesn't just look backward but forward.
Fun!
I've been listening to a two-part conversation with Jane Hirschfield about her "assay" poetic form. Hirschfield describes the assay as a poem that begins with a question, or a questioning thought (I am paraphrasing).
This poem reminded me a lot of that discussion, in that you can almost hear the poet wonder, before writing: how did Eastman name the Kodak camera? Why "Kodak"? What does it mean?
But of course, the scene described in this poem, as an answer, is impossible, and that's what makes it beautiful.
Because somehow it gets at the way "Kodak" becomes synonymous with cameras, all while violating every rule of linear time and cause and effect you can muster.
So the whole thing is suspended in this weird other space-time place, and Scrabble becomes a ouija set that doesn't just look backward but forward.
Fun!
Here is the aforementioned interview with Hirschfield, at the Poetry Space podcast, episode 118:
https://www.listennotes.com/podcasts/the-poetry-space/ep-118-jane-hirshfields-assays-ntdNO3_4Fib/
Episode 119 is part 2. (I haven't quite finished that yet.)
Hirschfield is a talker! But I found this really enlightening. You don't often get two hours of a top-notch poet talking about one particular form. But, perhaps like a good assay, the conversation expands from that specific topic to quite a bit of other terrain around making (and reading) poetry.
