I was excited that Charles Simic has been named the United States Poet Laureate. Excited because Simic is one of a handful of living poets whose work I can discuss knowledgeably, making me seem a whole lot more modern-poetry-savvy than I am.
The poem that springs to mind when I think of Simic is “Crazy about Her Shrimp,” which is a glorification of pleasure and homage to Dionysus. I first read it in college and its sexiness floored me. In some recent interviews with Simic, he sounds somber and serious, but he’s a hedonist at heart. Just what our country needs!
Crazy About Her Shrimp
We don’t even take time
To come up for air.
We keep our mouths full and busy
Eating bread and cheese
And smooching in between.
No sooner have we made love
Than we are back in the kitchen.
While I chop the hot peppers,
She grins at me
And stirs the shrimp on the stove.
How good the wine tastes
That has run red
Out of a laughing mouth!
Down her chin
And on to her naked tits.
“I’m getting fat,” she says,
Turning this way and that way
Before the mirror.
“I’m crazy about her shrimp!”
I shout to the gods above.
-Charles Simic
