Here at the office, the monotony of the work lengthens the day, stretches it as if the tied to some archaic torture device, threatening to draw and quarter the hours. A good playlist can counter this, of course.
Well, for the first time since I started my fast, I was tempted to open my media player here at work. (Really, up til today, I had been busy enough and away from my computer enough that there was no point. That and the streaming radio at 1079thelink.com was pretty decent.) So I opened it to find the last played playlist: a mix of Jason Mraz, Jump Little Children , Jars of Clay, and Ari Hest. Rather than cull out the forbidden tunes, I figured it was time for something new altogether. So when I went to pick my ear-candy, I notice an “album” that I’d not listened to as a whole, and I figured it was about time.
Enter Billy Collins.
I have such respect for Billy C. His poetry is, at the same time, finely crafted and highly accessible. The poetry community should aspire to these traits, always and concurrently. By creating work that reveals the true beauty of “plain” language and thought, we all are given a flicker of the hope of creativity, maybe even enough of a spark to spur our own poet within.
I’ve read plenty of Billy Collins’ work, but there’s always something magical about hearing him, or really any fine poet, speak his own work. I took the 30+ tracks I had and made a playlist of only those. Wow. Good stuff.
If you’re not yet a fan, or if you are but never thought to look for his spoken work, do yourself a favor and download a few (or all) here.
And on the sixth day, Billy C. saved me from temptation.