Hymn to the Neck (Amy Gerstler)

This poem by Amy Gerstler seems very old fashioned. From taking a quick glimpse of her profile, she's not that old, but still, the poem reads very 1800s.

You take an unusual topic (the neck). You put it in a strict form (hey, sonnet). You allude to old-fashioned things: "starched collars" and hanging. And you use metaphor to draw a mental image: "frail cranial buttercup".

It's a little too old-fashioned sounding for my taste, but it seems to be well constructed. Just wish it were more in tune with its own age.

Favorite line: "Speech is its pilgrim."