Poems are like a Clown Suitcase

Former U.S. Poet Laureate Kay Ryan once observed that a poem should act like a clown suitcase, one you can open up and never quit emptying. This is part of a complete episode.

Transcript of “Poems are like a Clown Suitcase”

I was reading an interview in the Paris Review recently with the 16th Poet Laureate of the United States, Kay Ryan, and she was talking about how she feels that a poem should act like an empty suitcase.

And she puts it this way, it’s a clown suitcase.

The clown flips open the suitcase and pulls out a ton of stuff.

A poem is an empty suitcase that you can never quit emptying.

Oh, that’s beautiful.

Isn’t that a great image?

That’s nice, yeah.

A clown suitcase, though.

That’s important that it belong to a clown.

Right.

Couldn’t be something serious, right?

That sounds like some of her poetry.

This is the show about words and language.

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