No One Wants Jane Austen


Every time I come across a remarkable literary journal, I get surprised. Another one? There are already so many good ones, it seems. Could the rumor that no one reads poetry anymore be just that, a rumor?

Let’s hope so. In the meantime, I leave you with a poem by Joanna Schroeder, which appeared in issue #60 of the remarkable “Pudding Magazine.


Splitting Up the Books

When the marriage is over,
no one wants Jane Austen.

Happy endings taped up
in a cardboard box

to be given away
to others, sight unseen.

When a marriage is over
the poetry books are cold

leftovers, no one wants to claim
as read or to be read

on summer bed sheets.
O love, be fed with apples while you may.

When a marriage is over
it seems frivolous to fight

over comic books. Small
paneled stories of right

and wrong, with easy villains.
Even the good guys wear masks.

When a marriage is over
no one wants the science fiction

futures so dazzling
with probable improbabilities

it is embarrassing
how much you wanted to believe.

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