poetry
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The Wind Has Stopped Blowing (Your Pockets Are Filled With Wind)
It’s April and I’m back home for Passover and Easter and my brother’s birthday. I’m wandering my parents’ farm. The air is cold and I expected warm, the trees are sparse and I expected leaves. Yesterday it rained and rained.…
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Tissue of Flesh and Light
Marchant transforms potentially stale-sounding specifics into a breathing, universally grasped object as writer, reader and paradoxically, the “no longer beautiful mind” are in communion, even if the mind presented cannot comprehend the connection.
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The Worst Words Ever
“What word do you hate and why?” That was the question posed to poets this year at the Ledbury Poetry Festival. Answers ranged from chillax (ugh) to redact (yuck) to appall. And Phillip Wells’ explanation of hatred for the word…
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Stephen Burt On Enjoying New Poetry
Over the weekend, I finally got around to unboxing and shelving my archived litmags in the new apartment. As I placed my issues of the Believer back into magazine files in proper order, the top headline on the cover of the…
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Writing, Joni Mitchell, LA and Other Things
Your poem sounds like a Joni Mitchell song I’ve never heard before.
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Saddam Hussein the Poet
On Thursday, the National Security Archives obtained and released 20 FBI “interviews” with Saddam Hussein. One of the things Hussein did, apparently, was read his interviewer some of his poetry. Unfortunately, these accounts don’t actually include transcripts of any of…
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Somalian Refugee Writers Show the Way
Dadaab is not an oasis. There is no water. In July, food rations are expected to be cut back to 1000 calories a day. The camps are short 38,000 latrines. Every year only twenty students from the entire camp escape…
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In Case You Missed. . .
Last month’s North Beach Poetry Festival, William Taylor, Jr., poet, author of Words For Songs Never Written, and gentleman, has provided a very succinct report of the festival’s events which, incidentally did not appear to include much in the way…
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Poetic Lives Online: Links by Brian Spears
Billy Collins says we need better poets in the US: “There’s an awful lot of bad poetry out there. I’d say about 87 percent of the poetry in America isn’t worth reading.” Collins may be right–the question is who makes…
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Measuring the Weight of Loss
A post-romantic poet not content to wax sentimental on idealized Nature, a la Mallarmé, Andrew Michael Roberts has staked his tent in her decimated domain.
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“Accident, Mass. Ave.” by Jill McDonough
I grew up on Mass Ave. in John Leary House, a low-income apartment building for former homeless families run by The Catholic Worker. I remember the street as dirty, exciting and loud… this was the 1980s, before the Boston neighborhood…
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For the love of God, we are not Generation Y
A little while ago, I got sick of hearing that my generation—which for some God awful reason is called Generation Y—was spoiled, lazy and stupid, all while we were fighting wars (one of which, I seem to remember, we were…