Political footballs : Putin, Vienna, Russian poetry, Superbowl Sunday, murder

I had trouble sleeping last night, thinking about whether anyone over in Russia would notice this poem or understand what I'm doing here. Not many Americans will understand what I'm doing here (you'd have to be something of an Acmeist, I guess).

(Also, it was written on the night of Superbowl Sunday (I skipped the game). Which connects it, in a distant way, with Brodsky.)


Meg said...


Well...I wouldn't immediately be in love with a poem so obscure unless it contained the elements of universality that usually make a poem tick (for me).

Whatever though...I think you have a fine mind and your poems are definitely worth reading.

Henry Gould said...

Thank you so much.

The obscurity stems, I think, from the fact that there is a very specific political reference here, and a very specific poetic allusion with regard to it. I hesitate to say any more at this point.