Posts Tagged: poetry
We here in the US are shitty. Also the rest of the world is shitty. Reading books in translation reminds us of this. The rest of the world is as shitty as we are, only it’s a different kind of shit, and the poets have different approaches to documenting and responding to the shit.
Over at the Paris Review, Dan Piepenbring talks about James Wright’s famous epiphanic poem Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota, in conjunction with Ann Beattie’s new story Yancey, and the general discussion and controversy of the poem’s famous last line: “I have wasted my life.”...more
Remember the literary packaging that Jonathan Safran Foer developed with Chipotle? Well, someone at Yale has decided it’s worth holding onto—the Beinecke Rare Book Library will soon add a complete set of the cups and carry-out bags printed with the work of Toni Morrison, George Saunders, and others to its collection of “publications combining poetry and unusual printing formats.”...more
In the driest language possible, I would say that fan fiction successfully undermines the traditional American heteronormative dynamic in ways that can’t be undone. In wetter language, fan fiction sexualizes. It’s transgressive because it suggests the possibility of the erotic. It’s political, because it complicates power structures.
Stephen Crane, who died at age 28 from tuberculosis in June 1900, is remembered more for his fiction, such as The Red Badge of Courage, than his poetry. But perhaps, argues Jynne Dilling Marton, this should not be the case:
These poems are Biblical parables for a secular age: instructions for how to press through what we may feel is a lonely, barren desert of a life with clear eyes, dignity and a sense of humor.
A new website called Poetry for Robots seeks to find out whether robots can learn human poetic language. It was inspired by Jorge Luis Borges’s theory that despite humanity’s near-infinite capacity for creating distinct metaphors, we still use the same ones over and over again in literature, like comparing eyes to the stars....more
Ah, happy food court! Peaceful kingdom!
Is it possible that all these tables now are empty
Where once families did jostle for a feasting place?
Over at The Toast, a lovely and timely poem, “Ode to an Abandoned Shopping Mall,” by Summer Block eulogizes the lost sparkles of a dying mall in a unashamed homage to Keats....more