Reading Response Week 3: Kooser

Whether or not Kooser's poem meant much to me, I personally enjoy reading and analyzing poetry. Initially, the imagery Kooser gives to describe the look of the main character's tattoo is obvious. A tattoo of a heart with a dagger going through it dripping with blood. This would have initially seemed bold, courageous, and edgy tattoo on the shoulder of the character in his younger years. Kooser's diction when describing the man years ago helped me understand that he was good-looking and confident. With old age, however, and many years of life experience, the tattoo he might have once been proud of was described as a "bruise" on his "bony shoulder". This man might have taken advantage of the vanity he was initially blessed with, because Kooser explains that the ache of the punch of good looks lingered on. He turned into an old man, his heart saddened with age paralleling his worn and faded tattoo. Kooser's use of imagery was sad, depressing, and pitiful. Reading the poem without trying to analyze it, I can relate to Kooser's message; in this case, with this man's old age comes the pain of loneliness and irrelevance. We try to fit into society by practicing the norms that we grow to learn. These norms change, and our attempts at fitting in, making statements, and connecting with others through our actions don't matter once that norm or situation changes, or rather ends. A very simple and menial explanation I can relate to is buying a new pair of shoes that are in style. For a moment in time, wearing those shoes makes a statement. These shoes are either very unique and go out of style quickly, or they're used too much that they lose their meaning and become worn. Either way, the shoes will become irrelevent. You will have to buy another pair of shoes to fit back into society, to connect with people, or to make yourself irrelevant. Or, in this man's case, your time will pass and you'll miss your chance. I can imagine, thanks to Kooser, a rugged man who was once intimidating; other guys wanted to be like him, they enviedhis attitude and the style that his tattoo gave him, and he simply had it good by chance. He walks around the yardsale doing little tasks with the weight of his past resting on his shoulders, figuratively and literally with his tattoo. The faded symbol that once defined him and made him who he was had become a constant reminded of what he would never be again. I imagined him with a thought cloud following him around while he picked tools up, his memories almost haunting him, and no matter what he was doing he couldn't escape it. He'd get a few stares from others, looking at his tattoo thining how cool it must have looked, or maybe it was so physically warped it had become unrecognizeable and appeared as a depressing blue-ish symbol of what he once stoood for. I feel sorry for this man, and I imagined him from the beginning floating through the yardsale, feeling purposeless and misunderstood.