Now, there's no doubt in my mind that poetry has a certain knack for grandfathering in poets who have reached a certain level of acceptance by peers, but there are many times when the poem in question, upon return, reveals some layers that were unexpected. One particular poem, "Nothing in That Drawer" by Ron Padgett, has had me pondering the nature of poetic genius for a long time.
You can view the poem below:
I had a love/hate relationship with this poem. It's easy to see why upon first read. The poem is published in a collection of Padgett's poems, and it's also been anthologized in 180 more Extraordinary Poems for Everyday, a book of poems selected by noted plain-prose poet Billy Collins. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love the "180" anthologies, but I struggled for a long time with how this poem could possibly be so successful.
My thought process, then, went from extreme dislike to trying to find a way to rationalize the quality of the poem. I'm a deep thinker, I'll admit, but I just couldn't accept that this poets' circle would just include this poem as a joke or, worse, a crass chuckle in the face of the general public. I trust Mr. Collins with my poetic taste far too much to believe this was the case.
My first thought was to go to the line count: 14. After running this through my head, I thought that the poem gives more space for the reader to change intonation from line to line. This also allows the reader to create an individual storyline for the speaker. There are many avenues to take this into one's imagination. Perhaps the speaker is looking for something lost, hoping that something doesn't get found by someone else, or perhaps the speaker is an invader shocked by the bareness of each drawer. In any case, the point is that this poem allows space for the reader to construct their own storyline. This is an achievement for any poet.
Second, this poem holds a universal experience in its lines. The reader senses the frustration of the speaker through repetition and anticipated outcome. There is something to be said for the tone of the poem upon repetition of the same line. The reader is forced to change intonation from line to line in anticipation of getting somewhere. By the end of the poem, however, we are left with coming to our own conclusions. Does the speaker ever find what they were looking for? Were they even looking for something? How important is it, really, that the drawers are empty? These are all questions that came to my mind.
Finally, this poem is simple. It has a narrative, a flow, and a tone all created by piling one line on top of itself multiple times. Had I published this poem, would it have gone anywhere? Probably not, but I guess there's just something a little magical about that as well.
My first thought was to go to the line count: 14. After running this through my head, I thought that the poem gives more space for the reader to change intonation from line to line. This also allows the reader to create an individual storyline for the speaker. There are many avenues to take this into one's imagination. Perhaps the speaker is looking for something lost, hoping that something doesn't get found by someone else, or perhaps the speaker is an invader shocked by the bareness of each drawer. In any case, the point is that this poem allows space for the reader to construct their own storyline. This is an achievement for any poet.
Second, this poem holds a universal experience in its lines. The reader senses the frustration of the speaker through repetition and anticipated outcome. There is something to be said for the tone of the poem upon repetition of the same line. The reader is forced to change intonation from line to line in anticipation of getting somewhere. By the end of the poem, however, we are left with coming to our own conclusions. Does the speaker ever find what they were looking for? Were they even looking for something? How important is it, really, that the drawers are empty? These are all questions that came to my mind.
Finally, this poem is simple. It has a narrative, a flow, and a tone all created by piling one line on top of itself multiple times. Had I published this poem, would it have gone anywhere? Probably not, but I guess there's just something a little magical about that as well.
