Leave your feedback Share Copy URL https://www.pbs.org/newshour/arts/weekly-poem-attention Email Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Pinterest Tumblr Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Weekly Poem: ‘Attention’ Arts Jun 7, 2010 11:50 AM EDT By Philip Schultz More often than not, my wife deserves more than I can give her, a balancing act of knowing when to be visible, given her importance to our complexity. My sons need less as they grow older, one always less than the other. My friends need more as they grow older. The dead ones, especially. Even while asleep, our dog needs some, tail beckoning. The more our house gets, the more it needs. The walls need to be thanked for their loyalty and patience, the floors for suffering the weight of indifference. I try not to feel too bad about my students. Guilt is essential to our relationship, guilt, persistence and a great serenity. My poems poach nearly everything, my fears, schemes, conjectures and astonishments, after evidence of infidelity, scraps of inspiration. Indifferent to the suffering they describe, they dislike everything I love, believe only in their insularity. Because I never really had one before, my career never used to ask for much. Now, disguised as letters, emails, phone calls, it never lets me forget it’s there, a new best friend whose only purpose is to prove its inevitability. There’s our town, its politics, scandals and obligations, and all the fine, inescapable privileges of citizenship in an idea no one understands anymore. And, yes, the wars, of course, their constant scraping fork-tongued self-aggrandizing exaggerations. Also, my happiness, its stubborn, perverse vulnerability that tries not to call attention to itself. Sometimes, late at night, we, my happiness and I, reminisce, lifelong antagonists enjoying each other’s company. Philip Schultz won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 2008 for his book of poems, “Failure.” He is the founder and director of the Writers Studio in New York. Schultz’s latest book, “The God of Loneliness: Selected and New Poems,” came out in April. His work has appeared in a number of magazine and journals, including the New Yorker, Poetry, the New Republic and the Paris Review. We’ll have a conversation with Schultz posted in Art Beat soon. We're not going anywhere. Stand up for truly independent, trusted news that you can count on! Donate now
By Philip Schultz More often than not, my wife deserves more than I can give her, a balancing act of knowing when to be visible, given her importance to our complexity. My sons need less as they grow older, one always less than the other. My friends need more as they grow older. The dead ones, especially. Even while asleep, our dog needs some, tail beckoning. The more our house gets, the more it needs. The walls need to be thanked for their loyalty and patience, the floors for suffering the weight of indifference. I try not to feel too bad about my students. Guilt is essential to our relationship, guilt, persistence and a great serenity. My poems poach nearly everything, my fears, schemes, conjectures and astonishments, after evidence of infidelity, scraps of inspiration. Indifferent to the suffering they describe, they dislike everything I love, believe only in their insularity. Because I never really had one before, my career never used to ask for much. Now, disguised as letters, emails, phone calls, it never lets me forget it’s there, a new best friend whose only purpose is to prove its inevitability. There’s our town, its politics, scandals and obligations, and all the fine, inescapable privileges of citizenship in an idea no one understands anymore. And, yes, the wars, of course, their constant scraping fork-tongued self-aggrandizing exaggerations. Also, my happiness, its stubborn, perverse vulnerability that tries not to call attention to itself. Sometimes, late at night, we, my happiness and I, reminisce, lifelong antagonists enjoying each other’s company. Philip Schultz won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 2008 for his book of poems, “Failure.” He is the founder and director of the Writers Studio in New York. Schultz’s latest book, “The God of Loneliness: Selected and New Poems,” came out in April. His work has appeared in a number of magazine and journals, including the New Yorker, Poetry, the New Republic and the Paris Review. We’ll have a conversation with Schultz posted in Art Beat soon. We're not going anywhere. Stand up for truly independent, trusted news that you can count on! Donate now