“Cy est Pourtraicte, Madame Ste Ursule, et les Unze Mille Vierges” by Wallace Stevens from Harmonium (1923) Ursula, in a garden, found A bed of radishes. She kneeled upon the ground And gathered them, With flowers around, Blue, gold, pink, and green. She dressed in red and… Read More
“September, 1918” by Amy Lowell This afternoon was the colour of water falling through sunlight; The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves; The sidewalks shone like alleys of dropped maple leaves, And the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows. Under… Read More
Hey. Hey look. Look, hey. This is a bait and switch. The bait was a promise in the title of the post for a Blog about John Berryman’s Dream Song 265, “I don’t know one damned butterfly from another.” Hey, I’m sorry, but the switch is that I… Read More
“Christmas Eve” by Anne Sexton Oh sharp diamond, my mother! I could not count the cost of all your faces, your moods- that present that I lost. Sweet girl, my deathbed, my jewel-fingered lady, your portrait flickered all night by the bulbs of the tree.… Read More
From “Peter Quince at the Clavier” by Wallace Stevens
“O Florida, Venereal Soil” by Wallace Stevens A few things for themselves, Convolvulus and coral, Buzzards and live-moss, Tiestas from the keys, A few things for themselves, Florida, venereal soil, Disclose to the lover. The dreadful sundry of this world, The Cuban, Polodowsky, The… Read More
Big thanks to BLCKDGRD for sending me two books of poetry by Daniel Borzutzky. I’d never read Borzutzky before, but I dig it so far. These poems are abject—stuff about what it means to have a body, to have some horror at having a body, etc. A… Read More
RIP Derek Walcott, 1930-2017 Hear him read his poem “For Oliver Jackman” around the 6:00 mark.