Poem: “Northern Corn” by Anders Carlson-Wee
Favorite Line/Phrase: “He pours/ rye whiskey from a thermos and sips/ the lidless excess of his private noon.”
Reflection: This summer, Andrew Hudgins talked about how dangerous it is to think you know where a poem needs to go. This poems feels both completely necessary but also like a revelation. Like there was no way to foresee the conclusion, but also that no other conclusion could be reached. I wonder how much it surprised the poet. It is a good reminder to me how satisfying surprises in poetry can be, how narrative and image can live side by side in a line, both pushing a poem forward.