The View from There
They skim
the trees along
the road we’re cycling down,
and rise on billowing gusts across
the countryside
The View from There Read More »
They skim
the trees along
the road we’re cycling down,
and rise on billowing gusts across
the countryside
The View from There Read More »
Centuries ago, laborers raised tons of stone without the wheel to build Machu Picchu; Pizarro and his army of conquistadores missed it, leaving the stones untouched. Now, hands snap towers,crack walls, wreck temples, stuffing sticky rubble into mouths. Marshmallow Rice Krispie Treat Machu Picchu lies in ruins.
Marshmallow Rice Krispie Treat Machu Picchu Read More »
I feel that it is poetry that has led me into political action and not political action which has caused me to write poems.
RESIST: A 1968 Interview with Denise Levertov Read More »
How easy it is to tell the story of myself without Lila: time quiets down and the important facts slide along the thread of the years like suitcases on a conveyor belt at an airport: you pick them up, you put them on the page, and it’s done.
We Are Always Us: The Boundaries of Elena Ferrante Read More »
On that last day, we read images taken
from a moving car, listening
to the artist speak of wanting that way
time stretches things out
readable in the frame
Behind me the remains
of the cinderblock tabernacle
and behind me the west-leaning house
with a red dirt floor
Self-Portrait in a Red Mylar Balloon Tied to a Mailbox Read More »
Natsume Soseki (1867-1916) wrote a number of zuihitsu (literary essays) about his pets, of which “Buncho” (1909) is the most delicately crafted. It is the story of a caged bird that was brought to the writer as a companion in his lonely study, but which in the end died of neglect, despite the initial attention it received.
Well since there’s still light walk around
stand on the porch
cup hands around eyes peering in
The Painter’s House Read More »