Poetry in Motion

In high school I was co-editor of a poetry magazine called Calliope. Even though it was full of typical teenage drama and we appreciated a certain type of angsty prose, I have really fond memories of it and there was a good structure in place for running the club. We met once a week at lunchtime in an English classroom (usually poorly attended), and once a week at night at my house (usually well-attended). At the meeting, we all read the poem to ourselves, then someone read it aloud. We discussed it, put it to a blind vote, and afterward gave the author a chance to reveal themselves and talk about the poem. At the end of the year, we printed a magazine.

Last week, I went with Rachel (Calliope Editor '05) to see Naomi (Calliope Editor '04) in a poetry collective reading/show at Lolita Bar on the Lower East Side. Not only was it great to see both of them and catch up, but it reminded me how much I like poetry and how I miss writing it. I did a little bit in college (especially when I lived with Aebra), but nothing since. Maybe I'll take it up again.

So here's to Naomi and her group, Intangible Collective, and dark bars and the desire to play with words again on my grandmother's typewriter.

Three generations of Calliope editors!