Thank you to everyone who joined for this session!
Our text for this session was the poem Men at My Father’s Funeral by William Matthews, posted below.
Our prompt for this session was: “Write an elegy about someone lost.”
More details on this session will be posted, so check back!
Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.
Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if you’re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!
Men at My Father’s Funeral By William Matthews The ones his age who shook my hand on their way out sent fear along my arm like heroin. These weren’t men mute about their feelings, or what’s a body language for? And I, the glib one, who’d stood with my back to my father’s body and praised the heart that attacked him? I’d made my stab at elegy, the flesh made word: the very spit in my mouth was sour with ruth and eloquence. What could be worse? Silence, the anthem of my father’s new country. And thus this babble, like a dial tone, from our bodies. William Matthews, “Men at My Father’s Funeral” from Time and Money: New Poems. Copyright © 1995 by William Matthews.