A Poem Is a Replacement Problem
by Julie Gard
A poem is a receptacle, a pot for a plant. A series of poems is a row of clay pots on a windowsill. A repetition of restrictions, green and spilling over.
A continuous life narrative feels like false mythology. But with stretches of empty space, bare and white as winter fields, the writing feels more true and hence more helpful.
The problem in the poem can be solved, and this solves a problem in my mind. The rush of peace at the final line is as powerful as if my nephew were no longer at the police station. As if the sight had returned to my father’s left eye, so that it fills with abundant green as he waters the garden.
Julie Gard’s prose poetry collections include I Think I Know You (FutureCycle Press), Home Studies (New Rivers Press), Scrap: On Louise Nevelson (Ravenna Press), and two chapbooks. Her poems, stories and essays have appeared in Gertrude, Clackamas Literary Review, Blackbox Manifold, and other journals and anthologies. She lives in Duluth, Minnesota and teaches writing at the University of Wisconsin-Superior. You can find her online at www.juliegard.com.