The Jew’s Daughter is an interactive, non-linear, multi-valent narrative, a storyspace that is unstable but nonetheless remains organically intact, progressively weaving itself together by way of subtle transformations on a single virtual page. (Say that five times fast.)
What? Yeah, I don’t know either. Click here to read the entire thing. It goes on for pages and pages, but this first paragraph just slays me. It’s completely visceral storytelling. You aren’t told what is happening, but through the beautiful and haunting words choices, you build your own story. It is an emotional reaction. Now that’s fucking poetry.
I often find this part swirling around in my head:
(Is this what they said?), inadequacy, and, as a last resort, an inexplicable refusal. You asked could I build you from a pile of anonymous limbs and parts.
It’s just… yeah, so good.
Does poetry inspire you? Or do you find it mildly off-putting? I don’t have a favourite poet and I kinda feel like a fraud of a writer for that. But I do believe that all writers should give a stab at poetry — at least once in awhile. There’s something good and terrifying about no structure, rules. Write your lover a note, yours friends haikus, and someone a song. Or just keep them to yourself, whatever, as long as you’re exploring new means of storytelling. I’m still gathering the courage to post original poetry on here. Maybe I just need to accept that it’s okay to be bad. Or, just choose not to care.
If you were entranced by this poem, you’ll likely fall for this song by Sufjan Stevens ft. Buck 65. It’s weird, a little bit non-sensical, and fucking beautiful.