Rauan Klassnik recently tweeted:
the end of every poem's like a toilet flushingAnother tweet from one Diana Salier:
— Rauan Klassnik (@Klassnik) March 9, 2012
stop ending your pomes with a period to sound profound.Much as I'm collecting definitions of poetry, I'd love to hear more quotes about endings. Leave them in the comments, or offer your own profundities. In the meanwhile [sic], here are some of Matt Henriksen's lovely and striking endings, robbed from their context.
— diana salier (@dianasalier) April 17, 2012
Various from "Copse" (short untitled poems in a series):
We lived in a small house
in the quiet North.
What I cannot find in the morning is most myself.
to say "aberration,"
to want the day back.
From "Regulations of the Assassins" (beautiful fucking poem):
In all that nonsense I became a gun.
It's raining now, goddamn.
From "Afterlife with Still Life":
Your skull is
perfecting the triangle,
making nothing out of three.
Another makes immaculate the mind.
This was the beginning of the third year
no one called for anyone. So it is writ.
What I erase out here repeats forever.
And from "Insomnia" (which I've mentioned before): "Jesus, why must it / be so late, so bright, and so early?" What I wrote was, "The end is like the end of the novel-within-the-movie at the end of Stand By Me (Richard Dreyfuss typing, Doogie-Howser-style, 'Jesus, does anyone?'). This is the Beatles' song of poems, overplayed, over-perfect, over-quotable, and O."
I guess I like endings with rhythm and gravity.