Read a poem, talk about it, read it again.
In this episode, Connor and Jack explore the incredible poem "A Stranger" by Saeed Jones. They discuss the poem's grappling with the loss of a mother, the use of distance and restraint, and the many strangers populating this short lyric.
"A Stranger" was first published by the New Yorker in July 2020. Listen to Jones reading the poem here.
More about Jones here.
A Stranger By: Saeed Jones I wonder if my dead mother still thinks of me. I know I don’t know her new name. I don’t know
her, not now. I don’t know if “her” is the word
burning in a stranger’s mind when he sees my dead
mother walking down the street in her bright black dress. I wonder if he inhales the cigarette smoke that will eventually kill him and thinks “I wish I knew a woman who was both the light and every shadow the light pierces.” I wonder if a passing glance at my dead mother is enough to make a poet out of anyone. I wonder if I’m the song she hums as she waits for the light to change or if I’m just the traffic signal holding her up.