Anapestic Ribaldry

I read at the University of Vermont a week or two ago, and Glen and I had the pleasure of meeting the very charming Irish-born poet Angela Patten.  Yesterday arrived in the mail a remarkable gift from Angela: a copy of Ciaran Carson's translation of the 1780 Irish comic narrative poem,  The Midnight Court (Wake Forest U Press, 2006).  Wow. Thanks Angela!  I plan to read it on the plane to LA today,  for the story—apparently it's about a Faerie court of women trying a man for his (non)use of his sexuality, rather a pagan theme—but meanwhile, what a treat to see a recently-written poem that uses meter--let alone a noniambic meter!— with such skill and wit!  It's a rare recent poem—or translation— that reminds you why poetry is considered an art for the ear.  I think this one is a must for Poetry in Rhythm, working title for an anthology of metrically diverse poems I am coediting with Canadian poet and Stonecoast MFA student Alexandra Oliver.  Check out this excerpt:

Not long was my slumber when nearby, thought I,

the land rocked and rolled and a turbulent sky

Brought a storm from the north, an incredible gale

That lit up the harbor as fire fell like hail.

In the blink of an eyelid--a thing I still see—

A female approached from the side of the quay,

Broad-arsed and big-bellied, built like a tank,

And angry as thunder from shoulder to shank.

Of her stature I made an intelligent guess

Of some twenty-one feet, while the hem of her dress

Trailed for five yards behind, through the mire and the muck,

And her mantle was slobbered with horrible guck. . .

I could imagine settling in to hear a full reading of this poem, just as I described doing at Michael Maglaras' reading of Hiawatha, which recently kept a sizable audience (and not an audience of poets, either!) happily listening for over five hours. . .