I love the Midwest, but sometimes living here I need a strong dose of quirky. I spent last weekend in Chestertown, Maryland with my sisters, my mother and a handful of nieces, and I’m happy to report that quirk has been dispensed. Chestertown is a small historic Eastern Shore town, population 5,000, situated […]
MoreI may live on until I long for this time In which I am so unhappy, And remember it fondly. —Fujiwara No Kiyosuke Translated by Kenneth Rexroth I found this poem in a lovely little book of my father’s called 100 Poems from the Japanese. I have no idea why he bought […]
MoreRefusing at Fifty-Two to Write Sonnets by Thomas Lynch It came to him that he could nearly count How many Octobers he had left to him In increments of ten or, say, eleven Thus: sixty-three, seventy-four, eighty-five. He couldn’t see himself at ninety-six— Humanity’s […]
MoreOde to Age by Pablo Neruda I don’t believe in age. All old people carry in their eyes, a child, and children, at times observe us with the eyes of wise ancients. Shall we measure life in meters or kilometers or months? How far since you were born? How long […]
MoreMy last post on poet Frank Stanford (I just typed in “Frank Suicide,” which shows you where my head is) was overly long for a blog entry, so I cut myself off before I finished exploring his life. I’ll finish today and hopefully will put him and his dark charms behind me because this guy […]
MoreBlue Yodel of those Who Were Always Telling Me by Frank Stanford You look like you just woke up What did you do last night sleep in the fields Now all ofyou who ride the schoolbus during deer season be sure and duck down on the backroads Get on […]
MoreO Luxury by Guy Longchamps O what a luxury it be how exquisite, what perfect bliss so ordinary and yet chic to pee to piss to take a leak To feel your bladder just go free and open like the Mighty Miss and all your cares go down the creek to pee […]
MoreI Sit and Look Out by Walt Whitman I SIT and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all oppression and shame; I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with themselves, remorseful after deeds done; I see, in low life, the mother misused by her children, dying, […]
MorePer my last post, the last few paragraphs, which you may have skipped: As the sole originator (and unfortunately the sole practitioner) of National It’s High Time to Buy a Book of Poetry Couple of Days (hereafter known as NIHTT—BABOP—COD), it’s my right to announce that the Couple of Days is not over yet; […]
MoreBeing proved wrong can be delightful, particularly if you’re watching someone break out of the box you’ve put them in. Susan Boyle, with her washer woman looks and elegant tones, affords this pleasure, as do pretty boy actors who go to Ivy League schools and write serious fiction, and 91-year old Olga Kotelko, a record-breaking […]
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