Could there be an honorific less American-sounding than poet laureate? The title conjures images of a laurel wreath askew on the pale brow of a loitering bard -- scribbling couplets beside a throne ("I am his Highness' dog at Kew; / Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?") British poets laureate write occasional verse to celebrate royal birthdays, ship christenings and Tube station openings. As California's new poet laureate, I haven't been asked to write a sonnet or triolet in honor of Gov. Schwarzenegger, who appointed me last month, nor a pantoum in honor of Maria Shriver -- and I don't expect to have to honor such a request. The governor and first lady clearly admire the idea of the poet laureate without insisting on a job description or the odd panegyric.
Single laurel, common voice
California's new poet laureate considers the seeming contradictions of the post and how to approach its potential.
In Britain, the poet laureate remains a half-jester, half-noble figure. In the U.S., we remain "half-cracked," as Emily Dickinson said. We have a poetry tradition -- a "Body Electric" anarchic romance -- which gives rise to our present poetry polyglot: neo-formalist, plain style, abstract, imagist, l-a-n-g-u-a-g-e, ethnic, feminist, mystical, abcderian, post-colonial, lyric-narrative or minimalist, William-Carlos-Williams-take-the-damn-refrigerator-note-down-and-mix- me-a-plum-daiquiri schools of poetry.
Poetry is, like prayer, spun from the imagination -- from ultimate contradiction -- like the idea of a democratic crown. Who's lucky or brazen enough to wear this headgear? I'm brazen enough to bow my head and gratefully accept the honor. Born in Minnesota, I teach creative writing at the University of Southern California, have written books of poems and, for years, wrote a poetry review column for this newspaper. Our governor was born in Austria and his first lady was born into an American "royal" family sprung from Irish immigrants. Each of us, with our homegrown or immigrant souls, has an idea of what sort of poetry should come out of the state -- whether it should sound like Gary Snyder, Robinson Jeffers, Kenneth Rexroth or Robert Frost (born in San Francisco), or like Sor Juana, Carolyn Kizer, Jane Hirschfield, Marilyn Chin or Harryette Mullen. In a letter, Maria Shriver told me that California women are "trailblazers" in everything they do. I agree -- in particular about poets, those psychic pioneers.
