Tag Archives: poetry

Why Do Poets Ampersand?

The poem is “Sacrament I” by Robin Gow (Poetry, March 2020). Excerpt, first stanza: & all the faucets pour oil or milk.We fill father’s bottles, the brown and green;thick glass blood cells, a throat-slit pouring silk.When will the baptisms make … Continue reading →

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What Does a Poem Teach? Fluidity

Excerpts are from the poem “A Future History” by Suzi L. Garcia (Poetry, March 2020). A muster of peacocks show off their tails, but instead of feathers, knives. This line introduces me to “muster,” a collective noun applied to peacocks. … Continue reading →

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Translated Poem: ‘In the March’

In the MarchRené Char (1907 — 1988)(Translated from the French by JMN) These incessant and phosphorescent streaks of death upon self that we read in the eyes of those who love us, without wanting to conceal them from them. Must … Continue reading →

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What Does a Poem “Say”?

The poem is “A Future History” by Suzi L. Garcia (Poetry, March 2020). It’s a short prose poem. For my own purposes I want to paraphrase it to suggest what I think it’s “about.” I’m not at all sure this … Continue reading →

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Manifestoid 2 of 2

Black lives matter. I’m a lay reader of Poetry, the magazine founded in 1912 by Harriet Monroe. I’m reading backward through my current 102 issues. “I — the telltale animal — rest my throat / against the snare of you, … Continue reading →

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Manifestoid 1 of 2

A correspondent writes: Watched the lunchtime news, it veers between positivity and warnings that leaves the head spinning and the heart pumping. In that last sentence, should it be ‘leave’ or ‘leaves’. I had ‘leaves’ because it is the veering … Continue reading →

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Geography & Poetry

The Darbuk-Shyok-Daulat Beg Old road in Ladakh has 37 bridges over snow-fed rivers in spate during summer melt. It leads to Karakoram Pass where, on 15 June two-thousand-and-twenty, Chinese warriors ambushed Indian warriors with rocks, staves & nail-studded clubs, tossing … Continue reading →

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The Opposite of Death

The sweetest, life-affirming eruption of ebullience I’ve encountered today comes from Jon Stewart. The subject is his learning to play drums in middle age. [Interviewer] Do you make sure to practice your rudiments and paradiddles? I have a teacher, and … Continue reading →

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Poetry Barasingha

My dog with the candy name goes off at the drop of a hat. When the washing machine rumbles a cycle-change from the tenebrosity of its cave, I wish I could say Taffy ululates, but it would overdress the event. … Continue reading →

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Poesis in the Age of Wienie Grease

I’ve discovered that what’s called poesis, said to be the making and shaping of poems — they must be shaped as well as made! — is not straightforward. For one, you have to follow your feelings rather than steer them. … Continue reading →

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