Getting Into Iowa

Getting Into Iowa

I never did get into Iowa.
The Workshop, I mean.
I applied and applied,
But they always said no,
I couldn’t come, though
I was so close, just over
The river, and could have
Been there in two hours.
To get into Iowa was
Actually easy – you got
On 20 and drove through 
Galena to Dubuque
And crossed one of those
Green bridges that vault
The Mississippi and there
You were, in Iowa. Iowa
With its corn and caucuses,
Iowa with its maidenly fields
Dreaming of being taken.
But if you’re from Illinois,
As I am, you’re supposed to
Hate Iowa, which stands 
For Idiots Out Wandering
Around. Still, how badly
I wanted to get into Iowa.
My poems were broken
Machines the workshop
Maybe could fix, and there
Was health insurance and,
Back then, a tiered stipend
Before someone decided
It wasn’t fair. If only
Graham and Galvin and
Levine would let me in
I was sure I would write
Great poems about Iowa
And teach the teachers,
Who I was sure weren’t
From Iowa, and who,
I suspected, secretly or not
So secretly, hated Iowa, 
Why Iowa was beautiful.
But they wouldn’t let me
Into Iowa, no matter how
Many autumns I submitted
Myself vicariously through
Ten pages of poetry, poetry
They must have found
Saccharine, about feeding
Calves and barns gone mad
With pigeons and the secret
Lives of teen feline mothers,
When what they wanted
Were oblique critiques
Of capitalism in hybrid forms
So that only a few people
In America, them most of all,
Could understand them.
How they must have resented 
The farms they drove past 
On their way to the airport
The day after their last day
Of teaching, and they'd
Be damned if they accepted 
A kid who seemed to believe 
There were poems to be 
Written about such a place. 
But of course I was just 
Bitter at having been 
Rejected yet again.
They probably loved Iowa.
After all, they were poets
And lived there, and poets
Love where they live
Even if they hate it.
I don’t know when it was
I stopped wanting so
Desperately to get into Iowa.
One day I was surprised
To find the longing was
No longer there. All of
A sudden it didn't seem
So important to get into Iowa. 
I realized I carry Iowa, 
Infinite Iowas, within me. 
All that time I had wanted 
To get into Iowa Iowa
Had been inside of me.