"But how poetry can touch this utmost experience of being, before which language falters, I do not know, and can’t know, I am unable to know–unless I turn to poetry again...”
Letters from Saint Francis Flowers fill a wall three stories tall near the river, by the Parc du Champ de Mars& I’m there, eyes wide, mouth sharp, in another year,…
“The old South Boston Aquarium stands / in a Sahara of snow now,” begins Robert Lowell’s masterpiece, “For the Union Dead,” a poem about race and class in Boston. To…
Brandon Bryant: MQ-1 Predator Sensor Operator He lives in Montana now. Talks to German magazines, plus Canadian radio shows. He coaches soccer, still has to tell us everything. How it…