Father And Son

James Wright and Franz Wright are the only father and son to win the Pulitzer for poetry. Franz has been one of my favorite poets for years and I have been rereading Walking To Martha's Vineyard all night. James and his son Franz had a tumultous relationship. James abandoned his family when he had an affair with writer Anne Sexton and dealt with alcoholism and depression most of his life. When Franz realized he too wanted to be a poet at 15 he sent his father his first poem. James replied, "I'll be damned, You're a poet. Welcome to hell.'' Franz also lived a hard life, a crack addict and alcoholic he spent years on the street before finally sobering up. Here are two from each Wright, in Franz's he references his father's poem in his last lines...


To The Muse

It is all right. All they do
Is go in by dividing
One rib from another. I wouldn't
Lie to you. It hurts
Like Nothing I know. All they do
Is burn their way in with a wire.
It forks in and out a little like the tongue
Of that frightened garter snake we caught
At Cloverfield, you and me, Jenny
So long ago.

I would lie to you
If I could.
But the only way I can get you to come up
Out of the suckhole, the south face
Of the Powhatan pit, is to tell you
What you know:

You come up after dark, you poise alone
With me on the shore.
I lead you back to this world.

Three lady doctors in Wheeling open
Their offices at night.
I dont have to call them, they are always there.
But they only have to put the knife once
Under your breast.
Then they hang their contraption.
And you bear it.

It's awkward a while. Still, it lets you
Walk about on tiptoe if you dont
Jiggle the needle.
It might stab your heart, you see.
The blade hangs in your lung and the tube
Keeps it draining.
That way they only have to stab you
Once. Oh Jenny,

I wish to God I had made this world, this scurvy
And disastrous place. I
Didn't, I can't bear it
Either, I dont blame you, sleeping down there
Face down in the unbelievable silk of spring,
Muse of black sand,
Alone.

I dont blame you, I know
The place where you lie.
I admit everything. But look at me.
How can I live without you?
Come up to me, love,
Out of the river, or I will
Come down to you.

-James Wright



Fathers

Oh build a special city
for everyone who wishes
to die, where
they might help one another out
and never feel ashamed
maybe make a friend,
etc.
You
who created the stars and the sea
come down, come down
in spirit, fashion
a new heart
in me, create
me again-
Homeless in Manhattan
the winter of your dying
I didnt have a lot of time
to think about it, trying
to stay alive
To me
it was just the next interesting thing you would do-
that is how cold it was
and how often I walked to the edge of the actual
river to join you

-Franz Wright