A great new issue of Born Magazine is up on the web. I really like Wayne Miller’s poem called "Notes on the Night Highway II" and the art and music inspired by it.
I’m enjoying reading all the great work at Tarpaulin Sky. Congrats to the editors on a great summer issue. I found Juliana Spahr’s poem "Gentle Now, Don’t Add to Heartache" especially moving.
A tiger comes to mind. The twilight hereExalts the vast and busy LibraryAnd seems to set the bookshelves back in gloom;Innocent, ruthless, bloodstained, sleekIt wanders through its forest and its dayPrinting a track along the muddy banksOf sluggish streams whose names it does not know(In its world there are no names or pastOr time to… Continue reading The Other Tiger
I guess I’ve been thinking about Bishop because we’re off to Florida this weekend, and Key West was one of her geographies. Although I think of myself as a beach person, it has dawned on me this week that I haven’t spent much time by the ocean in recent years. I’m really looking forward to… Continue reading Thinking about Bishop & Prissiness
Across the floor flits the mechanical toy,fit for a king of several centuries back.A little circus horse with real white hair.His eyes are glossy black.He bears a little dancer on his back. She stands upon her toes and turns and turns.A slanting spray of artificial rosesis stitched across her skirt and tinsel bodice.Above her head… Continue reading Cirque D’Hiver by Elizabeth Bishop
As I sd to myfriend, because I amalways talking,–John, I sd, which was not hisname, the darkness sur-rounds us, what can we do againstit, or else, shall we &why not, buy a goddamn big car, drive, he sd, forchrist’s sake, lookout where yr going. Robert Creeley
A BOX. Out of kindness comes redness and out of rudeness comes rapid same question, out of an eye comes research, out of selection comes painful cattle. So then the order is that a white way of being round is something suggesting a pin and is it disappointing, it is not, it is so rudimentary… Continue reading from Tender Buttons by Gertrude Stein
In a motion of night they massed nearer my post.I hummed a short blues. When the stars went outI studied my weapons system.Grenades, the portable rack, the yellow spoutof the anthrax-ray: in order. Yes, and mostof my pencils were sharp. This edge of the galaxy has often seena defence so stiff, but it could only… Continue reading Dream Song 50
It’s spring in Houston much of the year, but right about now, it’s truly full-blown. Sunlight moves through the leaves and blades of grass, illuminating the very air. From the greeny poem by William Carlos Williams– The whole worldbecame my garden!
I really like this new poem by Bill Knott published by Maverick. More formal than most of the Bill Knott poems I know, despite the word "Fragments" in the title. Enjoy!
Check out the new edition of Lyric with poems by Josh Corey, Daniel Hall, Fanny Howe, Marie Howe (Howe cool), Tim Liu, Kevin Prufer, Randy Watson, and yours truly. I love the cover.
There There is a world underneath, or on top of this one–and it’s here, now. –Robert Creeley, 1926 – 2005
I frequently slowly wish for more of the sudden experience But it might be that I’ll be surprised at myself by myself, i.e., abruptly dismayed An impulse is something of a summation An impulse is not a sudden nor an arbitrary act I can’t help but choose In my jealousy I may take hold of… Continue reading from Slowly by Lyn Hejinian
1. The snow is dark and nothing is sad and I was, once upon a time, a child. I knew what the weather meant, was hardened the way only a child, after all, is. The first ten years are full of rain. I watched the shadows flee away. The snow is something else, tonight, as… Continue reading Twelve Self Portraits by Tony Tost
If you want to receive a poem a day via email during April, National Poetry Month, send an email to Writers in the Schools (WITS) at this address: firstname.lastname@example.org. These are not just any old poems; they’re poems written by bonafide children. Here’s a free sample: On the Other Side I walked into a tunnel… Continue reading A Poem a Day