The Poet as Pinup
Wild Women Press just wrapped a photo shoot for a 2012 calendar featuring a new nude poet for every month of the year, with proceeds from sales going to type…
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poetry
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The Last Poem I Loved: “South America” by Tom Raworth
Can words become a part of you? I found Tom Raworth’s “South America” published in Keith Tuma’s Anthology of Twentieth-Century British & Irish Poetry (Oxford, 2001) and have always looked…
To the Language of Doves
Darwish’s identity (and the Palestinian identity) has been, at least partly, developed in exile. Darwish writes: “I am absence./ The heavenly and the expelled.” Here he speaks not only for…
Former Detroit Autoworker Named Poet Laureate for 2011-12
Philip Levine, at 83 years old, has been named the Poet Laureate for 2011-2012. As a former autoworker from Detroit, his poetry draws largely on his working-class Jewish background. Deemed…
Slashed Narcissi, Drilled Stone
In physics terms, the poetry world is underground “all the way down,” so Influence lurks in each sea cave like a bastard eel, recharging in darkness, awaiting his next dinner…
The Rumpus Poetry Book Club Chat with Lea Graham
The Rumpus Poetry Book Club chats with Lea Graham about her collection Hough & Helix & Where & Here & You, You, You This is an edited transcript of the…
The Last Poet I Loved: Maggie Nelson
After four years in England, I know that summer is not the season of budding trees, shy morning sunlight, blue skies, and merry picnics on the grass that my Midwestern…
A Pterodactyl Song
“So…I haven’t read…in 5 and a half years.” David Berman’s baritone voice drizzled out to the 8th floor auditorium at Columbia College in Chicago, sliding shyly over the beige carpet…
The Last Poem I Loved: “Dream Song 29” by John Berryman
The Dream Songs are, at their best, incantations, syllables given to the unspeakable. And yet, here’s the really unsettling thing: They’re fun. “Dream Song 29,” and the others in 77…
The New York Poetry Festival
It’s impossible to discuss last weekend’s first ever “free celebration of the poetry world of New York City” without mentioning the fact that it wasn’t in New York City.
More Horses Than We Need
Perspective and introspection are plentiful in this fine retrospective collection, but Gallagher doesn’t fully see now. She speculates profoundly and eloquently, metaphysically — never astro/quantum physically, as if from any…
A Journey With Two Maps
Becoming a Woman Poet is brisk, each indicator of geography reinforcing the urge to break barriers.