Last week's poem is by Linda Pastan, a short and to the point piece which was just self-referential enough to make the list. The poem is called 'A New Poet' but I'm not allowed to reproduce the whole of it here and it just doesn't work quoting a single stanza when the run-on lines are the best part.
This week's poem is by Wallace Stevens, a piece called 'Anecdote of the Jar'. None of his poems make sense to me but they all make sense to me. I'm not normally a fan of the modernists but these are typical of the bunch, read aloud poems to be loved for their sound and language.
I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.
The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air.
It took dominion everywhere.
The jar was gray and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee.