I Eat Poetry

I am not really a huge fan of prose poetry and often fail to see what 'they're all about.' However, I am a part of a discussion group with some graduate students and am rediscovering the joy of poetry, especially prose poetry. Came across two poems yesternight and I knew that I HAVE to share it with the group.

I am particularly interested in responses to Francis Ponge's poem because we have been arguing our heads off and disagreeing with each other abou it. If anybody has any reactions and/or responses, they will be very warmly appreciated. There are three responses we are being torn between - that the poem is a double entendre about sex, that the poem is about an anthropomorphisation of everyday objects to bring them back into focus, that the poem is a critique on the dehumanisation that sets in with mechanisation.

Max Jacob: The Beggar Woman of Naples
When I lived in Naples, there was a beggar woman at my palace gate I'd toss a coin to before getting into my carriage. One day, surprised that she never thanked me, I looked at her. As I did, I saw that what I'd mistaken for a beggar woman was a green wooden crate containing some red earth and a few half-rotten bananas.


Francis Ponge: The Pleasures of the Door

Kings do not touch doors.
They know nothing of this pleasure: pushing before one gently or brusquely one of those large familiar panels, then turning back to replace it--holding a door in one's arms.
The pleasure of grabbing the midriff of one of these tall obstacles to a room by its porcelain node; that short clinch during which movement stops, the eye widens, and the whole body adjusts to its new surrounding.
With a friendly hand one still holds on to it, before closing it decisively and shutting oneself in--which the click of the tight but well-oiled spring pleasantly confirms.