Finally this hour, our NewsPoet. Each month, we invite a poet to spend the day with us here at ALL THINGS CONSIDERED and under what is decidedly prosaic deadline compose a bit of verse reflecting the day's news. Today, we're thrilled to welcome a former U.S. poet laureate, Robert Pinsky. Hello there, Mr. Pinsky.


CORNISH: So how long does it take you to write a poem that you're proud of usually?


CORNISH: I don't know if you found this deadline tough at all.

PINSKY: Write is almost the wrong verb for what I do. I think compose is more accurate because you're trying to make the sounds in your mind and in your voice. So I compose with my actual voice and my imagined voice in my mind, so I can, quote, "write," end quote, or compose while I'm driving or in the shower. And everybody is different. For me, generating material doesn't take a long time. And usually, it's a matter of anywhere between five minutes and a couple of hours. Then the polishing and the sandpapering and the worrying and turning around might be weeks, sometimes even months.

CORNISH: It's interesting because unlike the other poets, you weren't taking any notes during our meeting this morning.

PINSKY: This was a disaster in junior high school when I was in the dumb class and all through high school. I don't know how to take notes.


PINSKY: I delight sometimes in saying to - as when I'm a teacher, I love saying this is really important, so don't write it down. To me, what you retain is a very important filter.

CORNISH: Some of the other poets also looked towards a certain structure, for instance, the villanelle. For you, how did you approach this?

PINSKY: I love form, but I'm not interested in forms. I've never written a sonnet or villanelle or sestina or any of that. For me, it's a kind of line. It's a rhythm. It's something musical. So you get a kind of a tune in your head, (makes sounds), you know, every sentence has a rhythm, ya-dada-da, not only a rhythm but a melody.

CORNISH: Well, now, I want to hear it.


CORNISH: And your poem is called "From the River of News."

PINSKY: (Reading) "From the River of News." The president and his opponent are both speaking in Ohio. Both opposing speeches will be about the economy. The Egyptian high court has liquidated their parliament. In the Iroquois language, Ohio means a good river. Car industry statements defend the three-crew workday, though the three-crew system is hard on workers' households. In Mozambique, irrigation and agribusiness are expanding. In Russian, the word liquidate is especially sinister.

(Reading) Speeches and statements. Tongues, poems, reports, parleys. An Egyptian says this is the smoothest of military coups. We'd be outraged, he says, if we weren't so exhausted. Economy comes from household in ancient Greek. The saying is money talks; now, money is speech itself, according to our own high court. In Mozambique, the massive irrigation is bad for subsistence farmers, but Africa can feed the world, says a corporate spokesman.

CORNISH: That poem was titled "From the River of News." Our NewsPoet today, Robert Pinsky. Mr. Pinsky, thank you for talking with us.

PINSKY: Thank you, Audie.

Copyright © 2012 NPR. All rights reserved. Visit our website terms of use and permissions pages at for further information.

NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by a contractor for NPR, and accuracy and availability may vary. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Please be aware that the authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio.



Please keep your community civil. All comments must follow the Community rules and Terms of Use. NPR reserves the right to use the comments we receive, in whole or in part, and to use the commenter's name and location, in any medium. See also the Terms of Use, Privacy Policy and Community FAQ.

NPR thanks our sponsors

Become an NPR sponsor

Support comes from