National Poetry Month: Entry #1: “drill imagination right through / necessity:”

The title of this post comes from a poem, “Play,” by A. R. Ammons, a poet I admire very much for his intensity and his playfulness. He is a poet for whom meaning is often at a hinge, the poetic word or phrase as a swinging gate.

In the case of the poem “Play” the swinging gate happens early in the poem (A. R. Ammons, “Play” Poetry #117, October 1970).
The poem begins:

Nothing is going to become of anyone
except death:
therefore: it’s okay
to yearn
too high:
the grave accommodates
swell rambunctiousness &

ruin’s not
compromised by magnificence:

The opening two lines appear to be straightforward: no one here gets out alive. And yet, if one considers the temporary rather than the eternal, many things become of everyone—something is always about to happen. Though death is the last becoming, life is not simply death, it is living—always becoming. However, Ammons’ point is that since there is no hope of surviving becoming dead, one should decide to live. Not simply be alive, but “yearn / too high.” In other words: feel free to fail. But here is where the gate swings.

The grave, obviously death itself, “accommodates” high hopefulness (“swell”) but also “rambunctiousness” (perhaps living without fear of dying). What is more of a swelling of ego than pretending to be deathless? So, “swell” is the hinge here.

The line reads at least two ways: one with a pause after “swell” and one that runs immediately into “rambunctiousness.”

a) “the grave accommodates / swell” : the grave hosts body and spirit (all that is not material): desire, hope, etc. (Note: I am purposely avoiding the body/spirit, material/immaterial, life/after-life discussion in this post.Though within the totality of Ammons' work it can be had with vigor.)

b) “the grave accommodates / swell rambunctiousness” : what the grave comforts is that happiness the grave negates: being alive and ornery, seeking thrills.

And then a third reading appears when the “&” is followed: “& / ruin’s not / compromised by magnificence:”

Is death, then, “ruin” or is it “magnificence?” If death is “ruin” then a carefree approach to life is magnificence—it still can’t stop death. Or, if death is “magnificence” then ruin is fearing death and not living. Of course there are many other ways of reading these lines as well; however, no matter which way the gate swings the final point remains: don’t worry about the dying but both live & die magnificently.

All of this serves to prepare the reader for the rest of the poem—which I have not yet provided in full. However, we do still have those lines mentioned in the title of this post that we have been moving towards. In fact, the forward momentum of the poem leads to them.

Here is the rest of the poem:

that cut-off point
liberates us to the
common disaster: so
pick a perch—
apple branch for example in
bloom—
tune up
and

drill imagination right through
necessity:
it’s all right:
it’s been taken care of:

is allowed, considering

Death, being the “cut-off point” not only between being and non-being, but also “ruin” and “magnificence” and perhaps passivity and activity, “liberates” humanity “to” not from “common disaster” (lack of material immortality). Humanity’s impermanence liberates—allows for the enjoyment of the temporary—the moment. From this point the poem suggests/reminds that location and perspective matter, urging: “pick a perch” and provides a specific perspective/location via a strong image: “apple branch […] in / bloom”.

Then, perched on branch—birdlike—“tune up”: sing. “Drill” (or drum, woodpecker-like) from the chosen point of view, though temporarily, “imagination right through / necessity". This image, auditory, visual, and yet still somewhat abstracted, suggests multiple, simultaneous bits of understanding. To “drill imagination” is to enter “necessity” by bisecting it, going all the way through, making a worm-hole through…dying, is it? Isn’t it? Imagination, instead of being wasted on mortality, should be used to cut through it, to make it transparent—at least in that one focused spot, that temporary location, perspective from which one still lives, somehow above death--still making noise.

There are also other obvious interpretations of this phrasing: for example, imagination is integral in overcoming necessity, all necessities. In fact, the rest of the poem encourages and explains this, assuring: “it’s all right” to imagine you are still alive, can sing, can climb to some higher place to view the world. Necessity (dying) has been “taken care of”; “yearning” “is allowed, considering” that this is the only internal agency against becoming dead.

And the imaginary gate swings back to the beginning of the poem: “it’s okay,” the “grave accommodates” that “swell” imagination causes.