by Earl J. Wilcox
When Norman Mailer walked into a room,
nobody yelled “Norm,” to him as the old
Cheers gang did to one of its characters.
When Norman Mailer walked onto a stage,
everybody waited with bated breath to see
what he’d focus his rage on that day.
When Norman Mailer wrote and wrote and
wrote, we all took notice of his pugnacious
style, his wit, his verve, his energy, his talent.
When Norman Mailer left his imprint upon
our culture, we knew it would be impressive:
an authentic American voice, now gone quiet.
Earl J. Wilcox founded The Robert Frost Review, which he edited for more than a decade. His poetry was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
