Well, now I want to read something
called "New Letters from Thomas Jefferson."
I have another-- I have a definition of poetry,
it's anything that you submit to the poetry editor.
Or another way to put it is, of course,
what shows up among the ads in the back pages.
Well, this is something I submitted to a poetry editor
but it just says "New Letters from Thomas Jefferson."
And it had straight margins on both sides
but it was printed as a poem.
So I want to read it as a poem.
It's about-- it's one, two-- what's
about five short letters.
"New Letters from Thomas Jefferson."
Dear sir, in Washington, we are breathing very sincerely.
Very sincerely, Thomas Jefferson.
[LAUGHTER]
The second one is--
dear friend, I give you the faith of the young.
Earlier generations were more limited and selfish
than the young generation.
They polluted the world, oppressed
the weak, indulged hypocritically in alcohol
and food, flaunted their styles as superior, certain decorums
in dress and speech.
Remnants of that generation can be
identified, besides by their age,
by their callousness and arrogance.
They do not have interesting ideas or lifestyles or tastes.
They are cruel and dishonest.
The governments they maintained or tolerated
were oppressive and corrupt.
Very sincerely, Thomas Jefferson.
The third letter.
My friend.
Dear friend.
It is like the common wind that touches you
by chance at your window.
Our stupendous coincidence to be alive at the same time.
Being contemporaries, having this common disability,
we must endure together.
I lift this day and carry it carefully west,
lay it at your door.
It is an instant heirloom so precious
that the whole sky closes on its gray edge.
Everything in the world has been caught
in the scene we happen to share.
Through all that calendar filigree stronger than steel,
I speak to you on this island that
is caving toward us all around.
Dear friend.
My friend.
Yours, Thomas Jefferson.
Next to the last.
George W., sir.
This turn has become the way, wait when acting.
Add one further turn.
Hidden by time, there lives this extra advantage,
coiled and elegant.
Our choices now disguise.
Wait for what the world wants.
Old courtesy, new strategy.
We follow by going ahead of what we know is coming.
By hand, Thomas Jefferson.
And the last one from Monticello.
My old friend.
This morning, the bees were swarming in the window
well of the washroom.
Birds were hunting each other.
The root of the big yellow poplar
was holding quiet as ever.
Despite what we know and have done, I felt limited.
Alone.
Across the morning light, particles were signaling what I
cannot see.
As ever, Thomas Jefferson.
Well, the story about this is after it appeared,
I got a letter from a scholar.
And he said, will you please tell me
the source of the new letters you've
discovered by Thomas Jefferson?
[LAUGHTER]
Right here.