Until Mark Doty came to town.
This award-winning, master poet rankles so deeply and so accurately, I wanted to grip the handrail when he read his poems. He puttered uphill with a few stanzas and then bottomed out with a ruckus of stomach-lurching charm. I had to discover his secret.
So I deconstructed his poems, counting syllables, verbs, adjectives and nouns. One 15-line poem had 25 nouns and only 11 verbs and 11 adjectives. Nouns like ticks, microchip, brain, paradise, dreams, mosquitoes and appetite heaved and rustled in his poem.
Nouns. A new place to park my amusement.