Massachusetts Summer

Poem No. 221

Poems are wonderful teachers.

Not only for readers of poems, but for the writers of them as well. I almost always learn something new when I sit down to write a poem.

Usually it’s a realization about myself — a deeper understanding of how I feel about a memory or about just being in the world. But sometimes a poem teaches me something else, like a new word.

That’s the case for this poem, inspired by the February Poetry Adventure prompt ‘bear’:

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Massachusetts Summer

We picked warm blackberries
at the abandoned farmhouse,
always leaving enough
for the bear and her cubs,

for the porcupine and her porcupettes.
And yes, I just learned
this is the proper term
for baby porcupines,

so I am every bit as excited
as you are right now,
and this poem has turned out 
so much better than I expected.

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Porcupettes!!! What?! Could there be a better word?!!!

Poetry Nerd Time! 🤓

Yesterday

Thomas Rist

posted a Note in which he mentioned the literary technique of bathos, and it reminded me of this poem.

Bathos is a type of anticlimax, in which a piece makes an abrupt transition from the lofty to the mundane. It’s a common comedy technique — imagine a serious courtroom scene where the judge suddenly gets uncontrollable hiccups.

I was struggling when writing this poem. I had intended to explore a warm summer memory from my childhood and see where the exploration might take me, but the poem was struggling to unfold. I offhandedly asked Petra if she knew the proper term for baby porcupines. Cubs? Kits?

When she looked it up we both got very excited. (I mean, how could we not?! Porcupettes?! C’mon!) At that point, the poem pivoted sharply under my pen and wrote itself quite quickly.

I don’t often use bathos in my poems — my intentional attempts typically end up feeling flat; more like jokes with weak punchlines. But here I think it works, and not at all in a way I expected. It’s a twist on the traditional technique. Lightly humorous, yes, but also somehow retaining the warmth I wanted. The discovery of the word makes the poem pleasantly self-aware, and helps an old memory feel new and fresh again.

So, this poem taught me two things — a new word (possibly the best word?), but also a little something about a technique I typically shy away from.

If you enjoyed this poem, I hope you’ll consider sharing it with someone. Feel free to download this image:

Thanks for reading,
~ A

P.S. — If you find a way to slip ‘porcupettes’ into casual conversation this week, let me know in the comments.

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