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Half-Life (after Friedrich Hölderlin) [by David Lehman]
After Hölderlin Yellow pearswild rosesthe lakeyour swansand kissesyour headin water. But where,when winter,is sunshineand shadow?The walls,silent andcold, clatter. [from The Atlantic, October 2018]
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My Mayakovsky (on His Birthday 7/19/19) [by David Lehman]
On my birthday, June 11, I write thisto salute the Russian poet born on this day,this now future day commemorating the onein 1893 when our hero sprang into life. A statue of the poet…
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That Lamp Is From the Tomb [by Philip Brady]
I'd like to end this blog week with some fun–a few clips from readings. The Poetry Reading is a strange event, since most poets and writers aren't trained performers, and they don't always live…
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Blondes, Box Scores, and Elizabeth Bishop [by Allison Contey]
1. A-Rod, your body rocksas does your batbut not so much, perhaps,your plucked eyebrows or TV teeth, and—is your hair frosted?It's OK because when you're at the plate,you look like a Cavalier—maybe more a…
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Next Line, Please: Starting with the End [by Virginia Valenzuela]
Starting with the end seems to solve a few problems that naturally occur when trying to write a poem. It means you don’t have to stare at a blank page (what Mallarmé called “the…
