No world is intact by Alice Notley No world is intactand no one cares about you. I leaned down overdon’t care about, I care about youI leaned down over the world in portrayalof carefulness, answering something you couldn’t say.walking or fallen and you were supposedto give therapy to me— me leaning downbrushing with painted feathersto …
I think this was actually the first Simic poem I ever read, in a Year’s Best Poetry anthology from the early nineties, but I could have invented that history. Maybe there was a different first-Simic-poem-I-read entirely. Whatever the case, this remains one of my favorites. Read Your Fate by Charles Simic A world’s disappearing. …
The wonderful Kelly at Big A little a needed a volunteer for this week’s Poetry Friday Round-Up and so here we are; this is my first time hosting, so if I miss your poem please e-mail me (link up and to the right) or comment on this post. I’ll be adding new ones as I …
Gavin just announced that this poem will be included in the Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror this year; it originally appeared in the Journal of Mythic Arts. Tell by Nathalie Anderson One sees. One is enticed. One goesor not. One pines, or not. That’s allit is. Still, every time one tells,by hairsbreadth, hairsbreadth, on it …
let there be new flowering by Lucille Clifton let there be new flowering in the fields let the fields turn mellow for the men let the men keep tender through the time let the time be wrested from the war let the war be won let love be at the end
From Mark Haddon’s The Talking Horse and the Sad Girl and the Village Under the Sea: Trees They stand in parks and graveyards and gardens. Some of them are taller than department stores, yet they do not draw attention to themselves. You will be fitting a heated towel rail one day and see, through the …
In honor of Alan DeNiro’s Read This! status over at the LBC, here’s a Friday poem from his chapbook "Atari Ecologues." (Ooh, and perhaps there will be DeNiro poems every Friday until the Festival of Skinny Dipping in the Lake of the Dead has concluded.) j Reset. I won’t expect endings to end–as long as …
A poem, in any case, to make it better: A Rough Guide Be polite at the reception desk.Not all the knives are in the museum.The waitresses know that a nice boyis formed in the same way as a deckchair.Pay for the beer and send flowers.Introduce yourself as Richard.Do not refer to what somebody didat a …
Lying In A Hammock At William Duffy’s Farm In Pine Island, Minnesota Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly, Asleep on the black trunk,blowing like a leaf in green shadow.Down the ravine behind the empty house,The cowbells follow one anotherInto the distances of the afternoon.To my right, In a field of sunlight between two …