Tyrone Williams Responds to Ronaldo V. Wilson’s “Want”

after Ronaldo Wilson’s “Want”

Mermaid the Human a water treatment implant
Mermaid the Human an ambiguous amphibian

crack credit

score some tail at home work force
coming along as surf the Third Wave

He-man putts in the eagle flies on Friday
Mermaid the Human hard drive through

He-spoke                               heard-him

“cut-off ears” a dumb
server conjured0 up as mangroves

“disappeared” as is is to “is” as beach
front __  to -each according to [H]is…”

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2 Responses to Tyrone Williams Responds to Ronaldo V. Wilson’s “Want”

  1. Jared Schickling says:

    “Something crawled / up me and died”

    “The black object’s phlegm is green in the center of a milky white”

    “the idea of an open letter has always fascinated me”

    —Ronaldo Wilson

    In the hotel, there is a bathroom that SMELLS LIKE BLEACH. Down the
    hall is a room next to the bathroom, which SMELLS LIKE CRACK, if this is
    what crack smells like. In this room, there is a big, black fly on the bed.
    You’re not certain if you remember the fly, there, in that room or in another
    bed in a different hotel altogether. In either case, the room is hot and small,
    and the fly, latched to some surface, is as big and black as the blood is dark.
    You had no idea he was bleeding…

    You both know what he cannot control…

    Dear [ ] think this will merely echo what’s already been expressed re “difficult” poetry. My own experience, which I bring up as I suspect I’m not all that singular, is that I’ve never required any formal training to discover a diverse emancipating array. What I do find is that the deeper I go viz. “training,” the deeper the appreciation; and less expectedly, the broader, not more constricted, is my palette. E.g. I’m utterly turned on by ¾ of this little new [ ] from [ ] that just last year I’d have found cloying and before that, boring. It would seem that the more extended and deliberate one’s explorations and thinking, the more considerate yet discriminating one becomes, to include discerning one’s knee-jerk from consideration.

    Even though he said, “It’s only in the back, you can take care of the front,”
    you pulled away, warned him about the dangers of Hepatitis and HIV, lied
    when you kissed him on the cheek and said it was not his fault, even though
    you knew it was his fault to be SO CARELESSLY BLOODY. You cannot stop
    thinking about the blood in his pants while he waits on the platform for the
    train back to his home, his Labrador, his wife. You think that he may
    collapse, that he is bleeding like you imagine the dead to bleed when their
    bodies give up. YOU BOTH KNOW WHAT HE CANNOT CONTROL, as you
    watch him enter the train a few cars ahead of you.

    To the question, “for fans and teachers of the art, what suggestions would you have for fostering an interest in poetry strong enough to sustain learners long enough to want and be able to glean something from works that challenge the reader?” From the perspective of teaching, I’d begin by asking students what they want, what they’re looking for, when they turn to it, books and art. This question seems especially appropriate in America’s media environment today (which is ubiquitous). Does one look for easiness, quickness, confirmation, entertainments or indulgence of ones existing or does one seek transformation within and without. Or what does permanent transformation require. Do we expect it to arrive without labor. (first question, are we even seeking it) How and why do [ ] stagnate, and die. What are the preconditions for healthy genetic pools.


  2. Edwin torres says:

    Ooh, that there’s some mighty fine restraint! Beautiful poem Mr. Williams…I love the implied direction from the maladjusted psyche…the energy cycles back into itself upon each reading…love it!

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