{"id":110433,"date":"2017-05-01T18:40:00","date_gmt":"2017-05-01T22:40:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=110433"},"modified":"2017-05-02T10:11:06","modified_gmt":"2017-05-02T14:11:06","slug":"the-first-of-may-with-a-daffodildo","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2017\/05\/01\/the-first-of-may-with-a-daffodildo\/","title":{"rendered":"The First of May (with a Daffodildo)"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/a>

Daffodils\u2014or daffodildos?<\/p><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

May Swenson\u2019s \u201cDaffodildo<\/a>,\u201d from our Summer 1993 issue, is an erotic-nature-poem-cum-tribute to Emily Dickinson, whom she intimately refers to as \u201cEmily.\u201d The poem, conveniently set on May 1, finds the narrator touring Dickinson\u2019s home and visiting her grave. It takes a hard look at the distance between a person and a persona, while subtly teasing out a latent eroticism in Dickinson and the objects she\u2019s left behind.<\/p>\n

In an elegiac homage of sorts, Swenson channels her best Dickinsonian slant rhyme and cadences, as evidenced in the first few lines:\u00a0<\/p>\n

A daffodil from Emily\u2019s lot
\nI lay beside her headstone
\non the first day of May.
\nI brought
\nanother with me, threaded
\nthrough my buttonhole, the spawn
\nof ancestor she planted
\nwhere, today,
\nI trod her lawn.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Swenson\u2019s poem sees Dickinson\u2019s ghost everywhere, a cipher, something much more sensual than the scratchy white linen and blank, disinterested face that an uninitiated reader might associate with the poet. In Dickinson\u2019s home, she notes the elderly docent\u2019s \u201cNew England pug- \/ face\u201d as she\u2019s guided through the house, Dickinson\u2019s ephemera paraded before her: \u201cshe soaked her gowns in this square \/ copper boiler on hot bricks,\u201d says the docent. As the poem goes on, lines from Dickinson begin to wind their way in, blurring the speaker\u2019s exterior and interior worlds. After seeing the poet\u2019s tiny chair, Swenson writes, \u201c\u2018An awe came on the trinket<\/a>,\u2019 \/ one article her hand \/ would have known all \u00a0\/ its life.\u201d\u2014giving a charge of intimacy to the object with Dickinson\u2019s own words.<\/p>\n

At the poem\u2019s end, after the speaker places \u201cOne gold dildo\u201d\u2014a daffodil\u2014near Dickinson\u2019s headstone, she\u00a0addresses \u201cEmily\u201d directly, while borrowing, again, lines from a poem, this time \u201cOf Bronze\u2014and Blaze<\/a>.\u201d And now the erotics are out in full force:<\/p>\n

\u201cDisdaining men,
\nand oxygen,\u201d
\nyour grassy
\nbreast I kiss
\nand make
\nthis vow, Emily, to \u201ctake
\nvaster
\nattitudes\u2014and strut upon my stem.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\u201cDaffodildo\u201d was found among Swenson\u2019s unpublished poems and stories after she died in December 1989. Read the whole poem here<\/a>, and\u00a0usher in what\u2019s been called \u201cthe lusty month of May.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

May Swenson\u2019s \u201cDaffodildo,\u201d from our Summer 1993 issue, is an erotic-nature-poem-cum-tribute to Emily Dickinson\u2014with flowers as sex toys.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":784,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1188],"tags":[370,28583,26616,2056,16833,4367,28585,13774,17986,28584,7221,165,2047,16598],"class_list":["post-110433","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-from-the-archive","tag-back-issues","tag-daffodildo","tag-digital-subscription","tag-emily-dickinson","tag-erotics","tag-flowers","tag-lust","tag-may","tag-may-1","tag-may-swenson","tag-poems","tag-poetry","tag-poets","tag-vintage-issues"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nMay Swenson\u2019s \u201cDaffodildo,\u201d a Lusty Poem for May<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"May Swenson\u2019s \u201cDaffodildo,\u201d from our Summer 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