Pages

by Aram Saroyan

I write on a typewriter, almost never in hand (I can hardly handwrite, I tend to draw words), and my machine--an obsolete red-top Royal Portable--is the biggest influence on my work. This red hood holds the mood, keeps my eye happy. The type-face is a standard pica; if it were another style I'd write (subtly) different poems. And when a ribbon gets dull my poems I'm sure change. (A.S.)

Genres: Poetry

43 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1969

About the author

Aram Saroyan is an American poet, novelist, biographer, memoirist and playwright. There has been a resurgence of interest in his work in the 21st century, evidenced by the publication in 2007 of several previous collections reissued together as Complete Minimal Poems. He is the son of author William Saroyan and actress Carol Grace, and the father of Strawberry Saroyan.

Reviews

[M.W.P.M. · Rating 4 out of 5]

POEM


One two
three there
are three are
never seen
again.

*

OLD POEM


I make another room
smaller
in this one
--there--

is all I want.
Carry over to it

 the ashtray

*

POEM


A new
telephone
on the table.
"If I really see anything
I hear it too."

A new telephone on the table.

*

2 Sentences 

1. I'm trying to write a poem. 

2. The broom is in the corner

*

FEBRUARY'S GONE

on this machine.

*

TRAVEL


I went all across country
A sense of humour
The size of farm animals.

*

A POEM TO K.Q.


I'm going to kill you.

*

Had West followed up her fine opening lead by dropping the club king or queen on the second round of clubs, she would have been able to play the ten when Stayman tried to throw her in. Then East could have overtaken and returned a heart, wrecking the contract.

*

MOVING


The floor passing through the hole in the bag
I smell of you!

*

BUS RIDE


1

A red tractor
 A red tractor
 etcetera


2

fences / finished

*

wwww

wwww

....

waww

wakw

wake

....

walw

walk

*

Poem recognizing Someone In The Street


e y ? h

e ? h e

h e y !

*

crickets
crickess
cricksss
cricssss
crisssss
crssssss
csssssss
ssssssss
ssssssts
sssssets
sssskets
sssckets
ssickets
srickets
crickets

*

Not a
cricket

tick a
clock

*

something moving in the garden a cat

*

Sunday

as the 
grass's
cut

and its smell
rises
twice

*

incomprehensible birds

*

what energy pops
flops her

 on her back
 laughing
in the water

*

the noises of the garden among the noises of the room

*

a voice only
audible
below

closer
someone speaks
Spanish

*

the radiator, the radio louder

*

a car roars over a
conversation

*

whistling in the street a car turning in the room ticking

*

Insist
on
certain
things.

*

Car Swerves,
Injures 11;
Driver Held

*

room now
door Humphrey
Bogart

*

cat
book
city

*

Ted Ted Ted Ted
Ted

*

sing, swim, sing

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[kit · Rating 3 out of 5]

often nonsensical, elliptically insightful. each poem is an individual piece of something bigger, far away—the lines are flocks of birds perched on a balcony from across the street and the moment i attempt a head count, they scatter into the wires and lights of new york.

‘two sentences’ and the entirety of ‘third floor voices’ stood out to me the most.

truly minimalist, coarsely urban. you will question and probe at blank spaces hoping for something, anything, maybe more, and at last you will be overcome by a sense of what you hope is understanding.

[Kyle · Rating 3 out of 5]

Minimalist poetry at its best. Often simple yet unintelligible. The poet speaks, but I want him to speak more about his work, in order to better appreciate it.

[EIJANDOLUM]

حْسْبوك عليّا كْتابْ.

[JonK]

a couple
i like

like…

[David Glenn Dixon]

As part of Complete Minimal Poems