To My Twenties
How lucky that I ran into you
When everything was possible
For my legs and arms, and with hope in my heart
And so happy to see any woman—
O woman! O my twentieth year!
Basking in you, you
Oasis from both growing and decay
Fantastic unheard of nine- or ten-year oasis
A palm tree, hey! And then another
And another—and water!
I’m still very impressed by you. Whither,
Midst falling decades, have you gone? Oh in what lucky fellow,
Unsure of himself, upset, and unemployable
For the moment in any case, do you live now?
From my window I drop a nickel
By mistake. With
You I race down to get it
But I find there on
The street instead, a good friend
X—— N——, who says to me
Kenneth do you have a minute?
And I say yes! I am in my twenties!
I have plenty of time! In you I marry,
In you I first go to France; I make my best friends
In you, and a few enemies. I
Write a lot and am living all the time
And thinking about living. I loved to frequent you
After my teens and before my thirties.
You three together in a bar
I always preferred you because you were midmost
Most lustrous apparently strongest
Although now that I look back on you
What part have you played?
You never, ever, were stingy.
What you gave me you gave whole
But as for telling
Me how best to use it
You weren’t a genius at that.
Twenties, my soul
Is yours for the asking
You know that, if you ever come back.
—Kenneth Koch
I think I’ve spoken, very briefly, of my love of Kenneth Koch and in particular his collection of poems, New Addresses, which includes “To My Twenties.” Poets have long addressed specific subjects in their work, but Kenneth Koch’s genius was to write a whole collection addressed to subjects like marijuana, his heart, orgasms, Jewishness, World War Two, etc.
I really like this poem in particular because yesterday Britney Spears turned 30 and I am soon around the corner. At 29, I’m in this weird state of feeling like I’m 30 but still technically being in my twenties. I’m caught in the middle, a girl/woman who’s learning about her responsibilities while also learning how much control I have of my life. What does an actual age mean, you wonder? I don’t know. Maybe it’s just a mindset. But surely you must know even before reading Koch’s words (again, I hate calling him by his last name, as if we do not know one another): “Twenties, my soul/Is yours for the asking/You know that, if you ever come back.” Would Kenneth Koch give anything to be 20 again? Maybe. The idea of youth is a powerful illusion, and you must only look to the booming plastic surgery business and the dwindling careers of post-40 actresses in Hollywood to know youth is still important. (Yes, I realize there are exceptions.) So what I’m saying is this: Kenneth Koch’s poem reminds me that yes, I still have two months until I’m 30 and while I’m excited—yes, excited!—to turn 30, I should’t rush past my twenties, as crappy and exciting and nerve-wracking as they’ve been. That youthful part of me that I picked up in my twenties will serve me well later, I believe.
Oh, and I should note that my absolutely favorite part of this poem are lines 30-31: “I always preferred you because you were midmost/Most lustrous apparently strongest.” The repetition of sounds between “midmost” and “most” alone are so playful that they could only belong in a poem about Kenneth Koch’s twenties (and ours, too).
Again, you can find “To My Twenties” in the reprinted New Addresses or in The Collected Poems of Kenneth Koch.
-R
