Commission me.
by Todd Boss, poet
Everything that happens to us is a potentially valuable metaphor for our lives. When something happens that touches the poetry part of our brains, we don’t always know how to access and explain it. But we know it has value; we feel it like a weight or an urge or a pressure. We ask ourselves, “What does it mean?”
I like to work with people to discover the hidden meanings in their lives, and to use poetry to pinpoint and articulate those hidden meanings.
I can be hired to write a poem for you. It can work in various ways. I can work with you by phone or in person. You tell me your story, and, over time, I present you with a poem. It can be for you personally, a gift for a loved one, or a public gesture, whatever you like.
In 2008, a poem I wrote on commission, “A Deer,” even landed in my first poetry collection, Yellowrocket.
I have written for numerous “clients” on commission, and the process is always lively, stimulating, and richly rewarding. Let me know if you’d like references.
Commissions start at $250.
Because I am a motionpoems supporter, I got your new book notice in an email. I thought who is this Todd Boss? Well, I’m glad I opened the email. The image/story for Pitch is hilarious and fantastico! Then I see you are a poet-for-hire. Well, songwriters have been doing custom songs forever, so why not poets? The fallen piano, the poems in the left column (everthing that’s broke and the calling and calling) and the content of your website have inspired me. This means I will buy your books. I landed in a fun place today.
I found Todd in the New Yorker. People have found Robert Frost and Roger Angell and W. H. Auden in the New Yorker: — I found Todd Boss. His poems arrested me and sang for me and, I must confess, I wanted one.
The idea for commissioning a poem came quickly, after I discovered that Todd lived in my town. I drilled down his website and found this charming offer: “I’ll write a poem for you”. After a brief and painless exchange of emails, we were begun.
I met Todd in person, presented the first payment, and I began to download the linear history of my relationship with my wife (“the victim” of the poem). Three hours later, we were both exhausted and Todd had eight pages of notes.
Our second session came two months later and was more contextual and a little metaphoric as I tried to explain a relationship I had already described. The questions were easy — then hard: there were a few silences as I tried to be as honest with myself as I wanted to be with Todd.
The first draft came after that. Todd asked for time, but it only took a couple of weeks for the basic idea to emerge. I asked some questions about intent and sound, got another couple of drafts in response — then it was done.
I had built serious anticipation in my wife: she imagined variously a large piece of furniture, a painting, a new couch… She was astounded by the poem when I read it to her at a restaurant.
I shared the poem with her friends, with my family and friends, with everyone I knew. She pinned it to the wall in the break room at her work and all her friends knew it to be a dozen roses that would never lose their bloom.