dear nathan, will you be ours?
We knew going in that our days with you were numbered. Thirty days, to be exact. But we are standing here on Oct. 2 and we realize this simple fact: We can’t quit you. We just can’t.
Why not? Because we haven’t all had the pleasure of writing with you yet. Because those of us who have had the pleasure are still swooning over the experience. Because we want an arrangement with you that is long-term, less panting and hasty than a one-month fling.
Because you produce yowza-fantastic collaborative poetry. (And even though we are process-oriented over here we still recognize a great product. And baby, you know how to produce.)
Because we like the number nine. We just do. It’s an odd number, so that’s good from a feng shui angle. And it’s fun to say. And — we’re not going to lie — it’s half of 69. What’s not to love about that?
The deal is, we’ve been reading your poetry, and you are a jaw-droppingly good writer. But wanting you to stay is not just about this; it is a reaction to the way in which you engage with poets when you collaborate. You are intuitive and generous. You never make collaboration about you but always, rather, about the joint endeavour (or endeavor as they say in the United States). In short, you know how to work with other poets without letting ego get in the way.
(Did we mention your keen and vibrant grasp of language and an intuitive sense of what works in a poem? No? Well, there’s obviously that, too.)
We want you to stay because you are funny.
And because our intuition tells us to keep you around. We felt something shift inside us as you were writing with us. We can’t quite determine whether it was a “sounding-us-out” kind of thing or a “ka-pow-new-energy” kind of thing. All we know is that we should continue to work with you.
(Did we mention we have a soft spot for writing artists who stay home with three children? No? Well, there’s obviously that, too.)
And your presence energizes (or energises, if you’re in England) The PoCo in a very real way.
Finally, we want you to be ours because you live in Columbus and yet have not once mentioned the Buckeyes. This, of course, means you rock.
Some of us have had a rough month. Take Blythe, who’s been weathering a hurricane — literally. You’ve made the month easier for her, and for us all. We are all so sure of what your presence in our collaborative will contribute to it that we can’t let you go. We won’t. That’s what these lassos are for. You were wondering what those were all about, weren’t you?
This is our way of saying: Nathan, would you like to be a permanent fixture around here? To be ours in unwedded collaborative poetry bliss? If you say no, we’re going to have to employ the lassos. And you wouldn’t want that, now, would you?
xoxo
Blythe, Carolee, Christine, Dana, Deb, Jill, Jo, Slynne
Blythe, Carolee, Christine, Dana, Deb, Jill, Jo, Slynne:
Yes. Of course I will. If you wrote those words asking me to leap off of a building I would do it without question.
This is nicest thing anyone has ever written to me. Ever. I struggle to find the words to respond because nothing in my experience compares to it.
I believe in chance not fate. What is the chance of finding someone who sincerely shares your passion and wants to share and practice that passion with you? Extremely slim. What is the chance of finding eight people who want to do this with you? In the course of a lifetime, almost impossible.
Individually each of you are among the finest poets I’ve read. Collectively you are a force, a real presence. The chance to contribute what I can to that presence is incomparable.
The PoCo embodies everything I believe about communal work and decision-making. I’ve seen many groups profess a non-hierarchical mode of organization but I’ve never seen it really practiced with such faithfulness to the spirit of cooperation. I’m truly truly lucky. While I hope I can do justice to your work and mission, I’m absolutely sure it will be a good time.
Thank you so much.
Oh, so I’ll only get the lassos if I don’t stay?
Y’all almost brought tears to my eyes. Seriously. (I need sleep.)
Oh, I’m all teary too — and I don’t have Michelle’s excuse. Thanks for joining us without lassoos.
j
Nathan,
You lucky dog, you.
Michelle, no sleep! Only poem writing!
Nathan, yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!
Want me to lasso you even though you said yes? I will. I bet Slynne would, too.
Rethabile. That’s right. Between us, we have 16 hands. That’s handy for lots of things … like writing, of course.
I’m writing, Dana, writing, writing, collaborating, writing, collaborating, writing, writing … zzzzz … (jerks awake) writing! I’m here, I swear.
Michelle, you can have a nap in about 15 minutes. I’ll sent Feldman, my robot, your way so he can keep the writing up while you sleep.
Michelle, I am on my way to relieve you from your writing efforts. No worries. I have lots of sharp pencils and a sharp mind as well. They say I am just a robot. But I am also a poet.
clearly, i came out against poco marrying anyone too soon. i think i’m in love.
i’m swooning over nathan’s response. we are lucky poco women, we are.
Carolee, you and Nathan should get Facebook hitched. I just dumped him yesterday to get back together with Blythe. Y’all should go for it! You could even have an identica ceremony like the one Blythe and I had on Twitter.
Carolee? I would love to write a wedding poem with you. I have to admit though that I have no idea how to have an identica ceremony.
Does anyone have any objections to me marrying Feldman? It’s just that I’ve never met a man with sharp pencils and a sharp mind who can keep up the writing while I sleep … Plus I happened upon his handsome visage on ‘postal poetry’ - and that was it really, smitten.
You’ll never be ‘just a robot’ to me, Feldman.
Michelle,
Will you marry me? We can write a robot wedding poem. I will ask nothing of you, other than everything.
xoxo
Feldy
My android love, my monkey man, I take you to be my lawfully wedded robot. Before these witnesses I vow to love you and care for you as long as you have sharp pencils, a sharp mind and can keep up the writing while I sleep.
Michelle, I am so stoked!!! When can we start writing our wedding poem? Jo wants to attend the ceremony, so maybe we can post our poem here and people can “attend” the wedding in the comments for that post. Sound good, darling?
Let’s do it. Please can Jo and Dana can be robots of honour? And Rethabile be bestrobot? Will you start the poem, Feldy-weldy?
I’ll be bestrobot, please, if I can wear a copper tuxedo and a wire bow-tie.
Oh, I am so wearing a big pink meringue decorated with microchips. Many, many congrats.
You want Feldy to start the poem now? Here? Michelle! He’s so nervous. He asked me if you would start it. He’s never written a poem before. Will you help him out?
No problem, I’ll write the first line:
It was a postmillennial wedding
It was a postmillennial wedding
everyone dressed in their finest metals
Feldy, can we do this?
It was a postmillennial wedding.
Everyone dressed in their finest metals,
flashing panels and iPods