Friday, September 25, 2009

Bill Murray was where?

If you're just aching to know where actor Bill Murray was the night of Thursday, September 24th, he was at the new offices of Poets House on the banks of the Hudson River in Manhattan.

Murray read a poem by Stanley Kunitz and one by Jason Shinder.

Evidently Murray is a fan of poetry because he attends Poets House events from time to time.

For those of you in NYC, Poets House's grand opening is tonight and tomorrow night.

10 River Terrace
New York, NY 10282
(212) 431-7920

info@poetshouse.org

Here's the Kunitz poem Murray read:







Halley's Comet

Miss Murphy in first grade

wrote its name in chalk

across the board and told us

it was roaring down the stormtracks

of the Milky Way at frightful speed

and if it wandered off its course

and smashed into the earth

there'd be no school tomorrow.

A red—bearded preacher from the hills

with a wild look in his eyes

stood in the public square

at the playground's edge

proclaiming he was sent by God

to save every one of us,

even the little children.

"Repent, ye sinners!" he shouted,

waving his hand—lettered sign.

At supper I felt sad to think

that it was probably

the last meal I'd share

with my mother and my sisters;

but I felt excited too

and scarcely touched my plate.

So mother scolded me

and sent me early to my room.

The whole family's asleep

except for me. They never heard me steal

into the stairwell hall and climb

the ladder to the fresh night air.

Look for me, Father, on the roof

of the red brick building

at the foot of Green Street —

that's where we live, you know, on the top floor.

I'm the boy in the white flannel gown

sprawled on the coarse gravel bed

searching the starry sky,

waiting for the world to end.


You can read more of Kunitz here.

2 comments:

Jeff said...

Geez, I'd kill for a Poets House here in Wisconsin... highly doubtful, of course, but one can dream.

I've been ingesting a pretty solid diet of poetry of late and a shrine such as Poets House would be quite a wonderful retreat.

Interestingly enough, in this world of mass marketed paperbacks, e-books, and mega-monolithic-motion-pictures based off toys and funny books, poetry may be the last outpost the written word, in its purest form, has anymore.

C'mon, if the Waffle House can franchise, why not the Poets House???

Scott said...

Hey, Jeff, a few years back, Poetry magazine got a $100M gift from a member of the Eli Lily family upon her death. The New Yorker magazine asked my friend (and poet) Kurt Brown what Poetry should do with the gift. We were joking about his response when I suggested they start a National Poetry League. Build poetry stadiums, have teams from different cities: The San Francisco Stanzas, the Houston Haiku, etc.

Unbelievably, I just found the New Yorker article in their archives here.