![](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/66627dabf7b72f0d137f876e/1718067369017-JW2JGK53AZOCSK2O4BFT/image-asset.jpeg)
Thanksgiving Menu Poem
a concept poem structured around the thanksgiving meal
〰️
a concept poem structured around the thanksgiving meal 〰️
Welcome to the Thanksgiving Menu-Poem. This project is a conceptual meal served as poetry for the thousands of friends I would love to have at our home on Thanksgiving Day.
This series began in 2002 with a Menu-Poem to honor Charles Bernstein, and since then this series engages Thanksgiving as the basis to celebrate poetry, poets, and the poetry community. Being a trained professional chef, I have blended my love of food and poetry into a book-length work as a feast of words and art to bring everyone a tiny bit closer together.
Thanksgiving 2022
Silence Stormed Out
Guest of Honor : Kent Johnson 1955 - 2022
This year our guest of honor is Kent Johnson who died in October. To honor our dear friend, we asked Michael Boughn to introduce Kent this evening. Michael, along with his co-conspirator, Kent Johnson, edited the online turmoil called Dispatches from the Poetry Wars.
I hope you enjoy this meal, the menu and the poem. And do send all of your love to Kent! Have a Happy Thanksgiving!
Rockets, Geoffrey
An Introduction by Michael Boughn
Being asked to introduce Kent Johnson is a little bit like being asked to introduce the Sphinx. Or the Grand Canyon. His presence in the contemporary worlds of poetry, especially in North and South America, is enormous and has been for a long time. It’s hard to know where to begin. Partly that’s because he’s a oner. His sharp eye for hypocrisy and self-delusion, his delightfully subversive imagination, and his deceptively easy way with words make him unique in the current scene. His lonely satirical voice stands out in the wilderness of careerist USAmerican poetry. He also happens to be one of the finest poets of his generation. This latter fact is sometimes lost in all the antagonistic noise his work incites. Yes, he likes to poke at the guy behind the curtain, to even pull back the curtain, which is known to cause howls of phony protest and a chorus of predictable slanders from those who stand exposed. But he is also the master of multiple forms of poetry, many from other cultures, many obscure and rare in a poetry market based on endlessly reproducing monotony. Nor is he above inventing form when he needs to. And his ear is immaculate. I’ve never known a poet so closely tuned to the music of his work, so at ease with its working. You never know what Kent is going to do, but when he does it, it’s guaranteed to leave you moved, stunned, provoked, and, most importantly from my perspective, frequently howling with laughter even as you cry in outrage. And that’s rare in today’s world. Kent can do this because he is one of the most generous people I have ever met, and his generosity extends to every aspect of his life. Those who have had the honour (OK, and sometimes, I admit, the tribulation) of working with him have seen it in the way he constantly reaches out to help poets young and old. But even his beloved poetry can’t contain the generosity of his spirit, and so he delivers food to the elderly through Meals on Wheels in the evenings, and when his church decided to help post-hurricane Puerto Rico, Kent signed up, hauling bags of cement and sand and helping the people to rebuild their wounded lives. Because that’s the kind of guy he is. Poetry for Kent is far more than words on a page. It is a commitment to a further world, a better world, a world he dedicated his life to help build. He's what we used to call the Real Deal.