Poet Finds Peace and Inspiration, Writes Guide Book to Central Park–in Verse

Where Sixth Avenue ends and skyscrapers halt, José Julián Martí protects the 59th Street entrance of Central Park. His comrades José de San Martín and Simón Bolívar –decked in bronze, charged with liberating the New World from the Old–stand guard at the Artists Gate, keeping the glitz and wealth at bay, allowing the park to become a utopian escape. And so begins author Aaron Poochigian’s Walk for the “overworked” in his recently published book, Four Walks in Central Park: A Poetic Guide to the Park. Using the same instructive method as the ancient epics from Virgil and Hesiod—known as didactic poetry— the author guides you, the reader, through four walks of personal revelation: for the overworked, the fallow, the melancholy, and the disillusioned. The award-winning translator, 52, grew up in North Dakota, the son of two teachers. At the age of 18, as he read the Aeneid in the original at Minnesota State University-Moorhead, he found his calling for classic poetry. He later earned a Master of Fine Arts in poetry from Columbia University and a doctorate in classics from the University of Minnesota. For the last 15 years, the modern bard has lived and written in New York City, teaching Greek and Classic studies at different universities, currently at Vassar College. “We’ve been friends since make-believe,” read Poochigian from his book in an interview, his voice booming with the thrill of adventure. In his lyrical guide, the Speaker’s all-knowing guidance, wise and intimate, comes from Poochigian’s own quest for revival. He described his personal story as a “tale of tragedy” that unfolded during the COVID-19 pandemic. Forced into isolation in his East Village apartment, he began seeking solace with cocaine. Paired with constant story deadlines, the exhausted and lonely poet spiraled into addiction, feeling he needed cocaine to “feel normal,” he said. After developing a permanent sinus infection, leaving him unable to breathe, he sought a way to reconnect with his senses and to overcome his dependency on drugs. “I forced myself to be at the park every morning at 8 a.m.,” he explained of the beginning of his recovery. Following the Japanese practice of Shinrin-yoku, or forest bathing, he sat. And sat. Whether it was on a rock, or on a bench, he sat. And listened. And meditated. In these practices he found liberation. The park embraced him as he found shelter in its treasures. He learned to live again. While he wandered the rustic hills of the recently restored Hallett Nature Sanctuary, he felt the woodland’s calm begin to restore him. And by taking a spin atop The Carousel, joining in laughter with friends as the nostalgic tune filled the air, he returned to a time of whimsy. “I realized a new world without cocaine,” he said. “Preferable to one with cocaine.” During his reflections at the park, he began to note that most visitors zoned out, not truly immersing themselves in the gifts Central Park holds. This calm and wonder he found were available to everyone, as long as they are willing to learn to slow down. In the city where everything is a rush, he wanted to show that wellness doesn’t require wealth, it requires, according to the book, the park’s “zone of unrestraint.”The addressee in his book, The You, was molded for anyone to fit. This is a major focus throughout, inviting everyone on this journey of wellness. “New Yorkers get drained,” he said. “This is the liberation of the work that unrestrains you.”Written entirely in iambic pentameter, his modern take on didactic poetry is readily understandable. Intending to bring this form back, feeling that modern poetry is mainly created for scholars, he created a “best friend” for the reader, he said. Just as one of his favorite Greek poets, Aratus, guided readers through constellations, Poochigian created the Speaker to guide newcomers with knowledge and senses of New York’s front yard. This includes historical descriptions, information about the trees and animals, the origins of sculptures and landmarks, and even fun, current must-see events. Each walk, from “For the Overworked,” to “For the disillusioned” offers a map for revival and unique pathways–ones that require New Yorkers to put their phone down, to pause, and to discover the park from all angles. Follow Poochigian in his search for a “numinous” sensation, a divinity he describes feeling during his wanderings. Reviews have praised the classics professor, describing him as “a poet and a translator who’s got a dreamy yet scholarly way of appreciating the park,” according to reviewer Nicole Killian in MobYorkCity. “What he’s done in Four Walks is give back that sense of wonder he was able to regain,” writes Killian.Leading me for the first walk in an interview, his eyes sparkled as his voice echoed through the trees. “We struggle, but there’s always Central Park,” he read from the book, the sun trickling through, spotlighting the poet. His voice needed no help carrying as his passion lifted his words in the air, a chipmunk even stopping to listen for a second. This was not the sight of a survivor, but of a victor. A healed poet, who was carried to triumph with the help of every “lake and lark” of Central Park, as he writes in his Four Walks in Central Park.