We have a bit of a confession to make. Despite being otherwise cultured, we hate poetry. Nothing against poets, mind you, it’s the poetry we don’t like. So often, it seems like a little more than poorly composed bit of prose turned into Art through the addition of mysteriously inappropriate line breaks.
Still, we like Open Books: A Poetry Emporium (2414 N. 45th St.), because it seems at peace with itself. For one, their claim in their window is earnest without being self-important: “Open Books: Trying to Meet Your Poetry Needs Since 1995”.
“Trying” to meet our poetry needs: they recognize that our poetry needs are deep, potentially insatiable, but gosh darn it, they’re going to try to meet them.
We also enjoy their event listings, reading them is poetry in itself (e.g., Shadow Architect, Schizophasia and Inseminating the Elephant).
The other thing we like is that they’ve always got a poem in the window, rolling out of an old school Underwood as if freshly composed, and it’s usually good. For the past month or so, here’s what they’ve offered passersby, gliding up, or down, the hill:
DESTINATIONS
People walking up hill
Say with dubious pace
A road so ruthless cannot
Lead to a pleasant place.People walking down hill
Speak with certainty:
This next road must be leading
to an orchard, or the sea— Hazel Hal
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Amen — I don’t like poetry either, unless it rhymes _and_ makes me laugh. So limericks are good. Call me a Philistine.
Aha, so you might like poetry as long as it appears fresh (out of the typewriter), and perhaps, local? And you can bend it down into a pot of boiling… oh wait, that’s corn. Anyhow, any Wallingfordidian who has not gone through the doors of the poetry emporium should be slightly ashamed of themselves. The people inside are incredibly nice, not intimidating, and delighted to have folks browse their shelves and dip into books and booklets, or even just enjoy the titles and covers (many of which ARE funny) if you’re of the Philistinian persuasion. It’s also the most peaceful, soothing place on 45th by far. I sound like I work there, but I don’t, and I’m not even a huge poetry buff, but I do know that place is a small gem in the ‘hood.