When Eric Folsom was announced as Kingston’s First Poet Laureate in 2011, a coworker read the announcement in the Kingston Whig-Standard and said, “Jason, don’t you write poetry? Maybe you’ll be a Poet Laureate one day.” I shrugged, and thought my colleague was a little naïve about things. I wrote poems about suicidal toasters and people falling madly in love with the spilled contents of briefcases. Artificial legs abandoned in yards. Spoons drowning in soup. My workmate obviously wasn’t familiar with how the literary world worked. There were committees involved. Advisory panels. And Kingston had hundreds, maybe thousands, of poets who could be considered for the role. I told her it was highly unlikely. “But you never know,” she said, and thinking back on that conversation she was right, then and now: none of us ever know anything at all.
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As Poet Laureate I started most of my poetry workshops by saying I approached poetry as an exercise in diversity, empathy and being able to sit comfortably with ambiguity. I often shared a couple of quotations from Mark Yakich’s “guide for the perplexed.”
“A poem cannot be paraphrased. In fact, a poem’s greatest potential lies in the opposite of paraphrase: ambiguity. Ambiguity is at the center of what is it to be a human being. We really have no idea what’s going to happen from moment to moment, but we have to act as if we do.”
“A poem can feel like a locked safe in which the combination is hidden inside. In other words, it’s okay if you don’t understand a poem. Sometimes it takes dozens of readings to come to the slightest understanding. And sometimes understanding never comes. It’s the same with being alive: Wonder and confusion mostly prevail.”
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Many people have asked me what the Poet Laureate’s duties are, so I’ve listed below the Terms of Reference for the Poet Laureate for the City of Kingston.
The Poet Laureate will act as literary ambassador for the City of Kingston. They will be required to write one new, original poem each year of their appointment that addresses or reflects one or more aspects of life in the City, to be read (by the Poet Laureate or delegate) on the occasion of the Mayor’s annual New Year’s Day Levee. The Poet Laureate will give the City a limited license to publish these poems in hard copy and electronic forms, including on the City website, for the term of the appointment.
The Poet Laureate will be present and read a selection of poetry (which may be authored by them or another poet) at no fewer than three of the following public events (or equivalent ones) each year:
• Mayor’s Levee;
• First Capital Day/Canada Day;
• Events associated with National Poetry Month; and
• Any other civic ceremonies and/or official functions as deemed appropriate by invitation.
Furthermore, the Poet Laureate will serve as an advocate for literature and for literacy, and will be expected to participate in the literary life of the City.
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Does anyone know what the Mayor’s Levee is, and why it happens on New Year’s Day?
The tradition of the Mayor’s Levee began in the 18th Century during the reign of King Louis the 14th. In order to show that the monarchy belonged to the people, the King would invite people into his bedroom on New Year’s Day to watch him wake up and begin serving the public in the New Year. Today’s levees are held in the form of an open house with the Mayor at City Hall. The intent of this custom is still, as it was years ago, to show the government’s role of public service with a note of good cheer on New Year’s Day. It allows us to engage with our local government as we look at the years that has past and focus on the year ahead.
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One of the highlights of my term as Poet Laureate was having a chance to participate in various public poetry installations in the city. In an issue of the Skeleton Press newsletter I reflected back to the summer of 2019 when “I guided a poetry path walk-about along Ontario Street, pointing out poems in unexpected places. I remember one tour member said, I’m going to come back and read that one again. In that moment the whole city seemed like an open book everyone could reach for, flip through, enjoy.” Here are a few places where poetry from local poets was installed around the city:
· against the boards of a skating rink in Skeleton Park
· on a billboard in the Hub
· on a sidewalk outside City Hall
· around a utility pole downtown on Ontario Street
· along the rim of the Confederation Basin fountain
· along a walking trail railing in Battery Park
· on the glass front of an old-fashioned telephone booth
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The final workshop I delivered in the library as part of my term as Poet Laureate was called “99 Poetry Prompts on the Wall.” A day after the session I received an email from one of the participants: Hello Jason! I was just writing to the library some glowing feedback about last night's poetry workshop at the library. I love poetry and don't often have dedicated time to write or share it. I said I'd attend something like that every week if it were available. I really liked your encouraging approach and the way you talked about poetry as an exercise in empathy and ambiguity. My name's J - I shared the 'Purple' poem last night. I saw that you're offering one-on-one mentorship sessions. I'm not sure if that would be for me, I really like writing but I'm not sure I'm looking to do more with it than just create for the sake of creating, you know?
Thank you J, I appreciate your kind words, and know how you feel (I feel the same way). All the best on your journey along the road of wonder and confusion.
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I am sitting in the living room, looking through the window at an empty intersection. It’s quiet, not much happening. The traffic lights keep changing, as if directing the flow of invisible traffic. And maybe that’s what poetry does. It helps keep the invisible world flowing, moving forward, advancing, like an imaginary river to an even greater imaginary sea. Reflecting on my four years as Kingston’s Poet Laureate, and my life as a poet in general, I feel grateful to be somewhere in the stream.
Jason Heroux was the Poet Laureate for the City of Kingston from 2019 to 2022. He is the author of four books of poetry: Memoirs of an Alias (2004); Emergency Hallelujah (2008); Natural Capital (2012) and Hard Work Cheering Up Sad Machines (2016). His forthcoming books include a short fiction collection Survivors of the Hive (Radiant Press) and two poetry chapbooks: New and Selected Days (Origami Poems Project) and Something or Other (above/ground press).
