Mark Irwin
Mark Irwin is an American poet. He is the author of seven collections of poetry, most recently Large White House Speaking (New Issues Press). His honors and awards include The Nation/Discovery Award, four Pushcart Prizes, a National Endowment for the Arts Poetry Fellowship, Colorado and Ohio Art Council Fellowships, two Colorado Book Awards, the James Wright Poetry Award, and fellowships from the Fulbright, Lilly, and Wurlitzer Foundations.
His poems have appeared in a number of literary journals, including The American Poetry Review, The Atlantic, Georgia Review, The Kenyon Review, Paris Review, Poetry, The Nation, New England Review, and The New Republic. He attended the Iowa Writer’s Workshop and Case Western Reserve University, and currently is an associate professor of English at the University of Southern California. (From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.)
Mark Irwin is the author of six collections of poetry, two volumes of translation, and a recently completed book of essays on contemporary American poetry entitled “Monster.” His most recent book is American Urn: New & Selected Poems (1987–2011). He lives in Colorado. (Poetry Foundation)
`
I loved this poem for the simple reason I felt the same bloomin’ way about Woolworth’s. Going there was better than an amusement park for me. And getting to sit at the lunch counter and have a steaming cup of hot chocolate with real whipped cream in the winter when we’d just come in from outside was heavenly! And pencils, pens, and paper! That’s where I always headed first! Did any of you guys love going to Woolworth’s?
`
Woolworth’s
(for Gerald Stern)
Everything stands wondrously multicolored
and at attention in the always Christmas air.
What scent lingers unrecognizably
between that of popcorn, grilled cheese sandwiches,
malted milkballs, and parakeets? Maybe you came here
in winter to buy your daughter a hamster
and were detained by the bin
of Multicolored Thongs, four pair
for a dollar. Maybe you came here to buy
some envelopes, the light blue par avion ones
with airplanes, but caught yourself, lost,
daydreaming, saying it’s too late over the glassy
diorama of cakes and pies. Maybe you came here
to buy a lampshade, the fake crimped
kind, and suddenly you remember
your grandmother, dead
twenty years, floating through the old
house like a curtain. Maybe you’re retired,
on Social Security, and came here for the Roast
Turkey Dinner, or the Liver and Onions,
or just to stare into a black circle
of coffee and to get warm. Or maybe
the big church down the street is closed
now during the day, and you’re homeless and poor,
or you’re rich, or it doesn’t matter what you are
with a little loose change jangling in your pocket,
begging to be spent, because you wandered in
and somewhere between the bin of animal crackers
and the little zoo in the back of the store
you lost something, and because you came here
not to forget, but to remember to live.
`
`
Picture Credit: www.poetryfoundation.org
annacottage said:
Still have warm feelings when as a Child I remember looking at the Woolworths Easter Eggs, in particular the ones that were decorated with little flowers, and inside the eggs would be for the Girls, at least, Doll’s House Furniture. At times you could pick up some good quality products. Their plants were always the Best. Ou Store closed years ago, replaced with “50p and Pounds” Store, never been in there but looks cheap and nasty. No High Streets here anymore.
LikeLiked by 1 person
calensariel said:
I don’t remember the eggs. But then traditions were probably different over there. There are still a few Woolworths scattered around Europe according to the article I read.
LikeLiked by 1 person
LuAnne Holder said:
I only have a vague memory of Woolworths because we did not live near one. But when I lived in Memphis there was this wonderful general store, Schwab’s (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A._Schwab%27s) on Beale Street that sold everything. I remember one time the current Schwab in ownership of this ancient store showed me the voodoo room, and “educated” me on what kinds of incense to burn while performing certain voodoo rituals. A little scary but very intriguing!
LikeLiked by 1 person
calensariel said:
What a cool store. Loved their motto! What was with the big overalls, though? And that whole voodoo thing, isn’t that a rite of passage or used to be? 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Shannon said:
Woolworths reminds me of going there with my granny when I was a little girl. She had more patience than my mom and would let me investigate every little nook and cranny! The grand finale was usually pie with ice cream at the lunch counter, watching the big square drink containers move that coloured sugar water around!
LikeLiked by 1 person
calensariel said:
Yes, there was always lots to see. Butter dishes! I used to break our glass one regularly after we got married. (Don’t ask me why, I have no clue.) I could always find one just like it at Woolworth’s. The last time I broke it I ended up wth my mother-in-law’s ’cause Woolworth’s was gone by then. 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
wendyj59 said:
Thanks for your visit. I used to love Woolworths. Could nearly always get what I wanted there and they had the most obscure things sometimes. Very sad when they closed down here.
LikeLiked by 1 person
calensariel said:
Thanks for stopping by, Wendy. And I think obscure is the perfect word. It was just like a play land for a little kid. 😀 I do miss it.
LikeLike
Soul Gifts said:
That’s a very different kind of Woolies you have over there. Ours are boring in comparison 😦
LikeLiked by 1 person
calensariel said:
Actually Woolworth’s closed their remaining variety stores in America in 1997. We don’t have them here any more. So sad. They really were a way of life. I’ll bet Norman Rockwell did a painting of Woolworth’s at one time or another. 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
Soul Gifts said:
We have the supermarkets here, not the variety store. One down the road from us introduced a cafe last year where you can buy a coffee and a light snack. Not sure that it’s been a hit though
LikeLiked by 1 person
calensariel said:
Does that mean you guys don’t have Starbucks over there???
LikeLike
K.L. Allendoerfer said:
I love the poems you choose to post here. I often find poetry difficult, or slow going, and I normally don’t read much of it because of that. But your intrductions and the poems you pick are always engaging!
LikeLiked by 1 person
calensariel said:
Thanks, Karen. I have a SUPER hard time with poetry, too. It has to be pretty simple for me to connect with a poem. I remember reading a quote from the poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti. He said: Like a bowl of roses, a poem should not have to be explained. I thought now THIS is a guy I’m gonna like. Bought one of his books, “Coney Island of the Mind” and couldn’t understand a word of it! Frustrating!
LikeLiked by 1 person
K.L. Allendoerfer said:
Yeah, unfortunately I think quotes like that can cut both ways–what they it should mean IMO is that the poet makes his/her work accessible enough to be understood. But what it often seems to end up meaning is, if you don’t understand it on your own, I don’t think it’s worth trying to explain it to you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
calensariel said:
Totally agree. If a poem doesn’t touch my life experience in some way, I KNOW that in a quick scan. Rod McKuen and James Kavanaugh never failed to captivate me.
LikeLiked by 2 people