Shall I Compare Kenning to a Ted Kooser Reading?

Environments: one of comfy youth sitting in a circle to one of upper- class olderish folks auditorium. The emergent forms reading was interactive, not to say that Kooser’s was not. I too have sat on a porch and watched the grass. Oh I’m there with you Ted, but in terms of artistic interaction. . .(If any Kooser fans find themselves on here, it’s ok, I’m sure you won’t like my poetry either so let us go sit by some trees somewhere and not talk about it.)
Thinking back to the emergent forms reading, Jesse’s style was one thing that stands out to me. His poems, as we have discussed in class, carry somewhat of a chant- like feeling with them. I still stand by this after hearing him. His tone was somewhat melancholy, dare I say a little sad and it flowed with the words. His poems very much represent sound over meaning although he might say something quite different.
We already touched upon this in class so it might seem redundant but what fascinates me most about Dolores’ pieces is the way in which Jen then translates them. Translating any form of literature or language in general is quite intriguing because every culture values different things. Language defines culture and culture defines language. How can we ever get a poem to carry the same meanings as well as the same sound? It is impossible and watching Jen and Dolores confirmed that with me. Their reading styles where entirely different and therefore gave me two different perceptions of the poems.
I would have to say however, that the Hannah Weiner performances were the most "inspiring" if that is even the word I am looking for. Her works lack of inhibitions with regards to what poetry should be are outstanding. She brought to the forefront news ways of looking at poetry, at words and their sounds and everything else that is encompassed in this art form.
So what of Ted? He certainly knows how to document what he sees. The stereotypical tattooed man, the hung over college student going to the library and even a nice day on the farm. All I can is, Ted, I’d hug you on the street if I did not think you would assume me to be another woman awestruck by your poetry.