Slam+Poetry

media type="youtube" key="_1MHVqAWGmI?fs=1" height="385" width="480"


 * Undivided Attention - By Taylor Mali **

When I was browsing through Mali's work, his poem 'Undivided Attention' was the first to capture my interest. This is partially because I was familiar with the phrase "undivided attention" after hearing teachers use it on numerous occasions. To say the least, the poem exceeded my expectations; Mali delivers it with such expression and phrasing that he makes the seemingly dry topic quite colorful. Human attention spans, which are the central theme of this short poem, are dwelt upon in a very truthful and amusing way. "My students rush to the window | | as if snow were more interesting than math | | which of course it is." I imagine anyone would agree with this line, and it certainly speaks to students such as myself. Another contributive factor in Mali's delivery is his frequent use of similes. Some of them are very simple, such as "Like the first snow, falling", whereas others are more complex. "Dirty white crisscross patterns hanging like the second-to-last note of a concerto played on the edge of the seat" is but one of the beautifully constructed similes he uses in this poem.

A grand piano wrapped in quilted pads by movers,  tied up with canvas straps - like classical music's  birthday gift to the insane -  is gently nudged without its legs  out an eighth-floor window on 62nd street. It dangles in April air from the neck of the movers' crane,  Chopin-shiny black lacquer squares  and dirty white crisscross patterns hanging like the second-to-last  note of a concerto played on the edge of the seat,  the edge of tears, the edge of eight stories up going over, and  I'm trying to teach math in the building across the street. Who can teach when there are such lessons to be learned?  All the greatest common factors are delivered by  long-necked cranes and flatbed trucks  or come through everything, even air.  Like snow. <span style="color: silver; font-family: Verdana,Arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; text-decoration: none;">See, snow falls for the first time every year, and every year <span style="color: silver; font-family: Verdana,Arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; text-decoration: none;"> my students rush to the window <span style="color: silver; font-family: Verdana,Arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; text-decoration: none;"> as if snow were more interesting than math, <span style="color: silver; font-family: Verdana,Arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; text-decoration: none;"> which, of course, it is. <span style="color: silver; font-family: Verdana,Arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; text-decoration: none;">So please. <span style="color: silver; font-family: Verdana,Arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; text-decoration: none;">Let me teach like a Steinway, <span style="color: silver; font-family: Verdana,Arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; text-decoration: none;"> spinning slowly in April air, <span style="color: silver; font-family: Verdana,Arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; text-decoration: none;"> so almost-falling, so hinderingly <span style="color: silver; font-family: Verdana,Arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; text-decoration: none;"> dangling from the neck of the movers' crane. <span style="color: silver; font-family: Verdana,Arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; text-decoration: none;"> So on the edge of losing everything. <span style="color: silver; font-family: Verdana,Arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; text-decoration: none;">Let me teach like the first snow, falling.