So the question becomes—no offense— are men wolves or are men slop? Because my heart is definitely a pig. Each boy sings like a halfwit alone in a barn: Little pig heart, little pig heart, let me in. Oh yes, those farm boys let loose to form cities have a way with words. My whiskered…
R: A special present for my birthday? How sweet of you. But what are you thinking of? T: Rather than some trinket, beaded out of flashy stones, a living gift. R: A living gift! One that grows on me? T: Exactly. A present, out of all our past, to keep you constant company. R: Good!…
Mark Strand, The Weather of Words: Poetic Invention, essays: A brilliant and witty collection of writings on the art and nature of poetry, exploring the relationship between photographs and poems, the eternal lyric, old forms, and an alphabet of influences. (Knopf)
When something irks you, let your anger build— Don’t spend it in a temporary snit. Don’t leave your smallest passion unfulfilled. “Let bygones be bygones,” say the weak-willed. Ha! Watch where a bygone goes, and bottle it. Appreciate your anger. Let it build Vast caves of vintage rage, best when chilled. Invest in every wrong…
May 24 A shake erupts, a self-guffaw. Some miles up, he reads a life, detailed with his own, by drugstore specs on a wasp-boy’s cord. His focus is keen, a screen. Elated as he gets in this fake air, the book’s a scream. Another shake. Across his aisle, two toddlers shriek strange alphabets and wail;…
Ellen Bryant Voigt, The Flexible Lyric, essays: These eloquent essays celebrate the art and craft of lyric poetry, passionately and astutely revisiting the work of poets from Shakespeare to Bishop. The book is an inspired argument, proving that the making of poems is not just a trade but a calling. (Georgia)
The man had cornered a great deal of money and when it got Hot he went—could go—where it was cool. As for The servants, well, tant pis. A.C. was not yet part Of the picture. But an icehouse. There you had it. The butler’s Gopher boy and an upstairs maid called Sophie (whose Lonely duties…
At the Boston airport they were separated. Julien had to go through the line for foreigners. He was carrying his big black artist’s portfolio, five feet by three, zipped up. In it were plans for all his major architectural projects. He looked very respectable, if pale. Austin, of course, had been waved through Immigration, and…
Derek Walcott, Tiepolo’s Hound, poems: Published with twenty-five full-color reproductions of Walcott’s own paintings, Tiepolo’s Hound is a stunning book-length poem that is at once the spiritual biography of Camille Pissarro, a history in verse of Impressionist painting, and a memoir of Walcott’s desire to catch the visual world in more than words. (FSG)
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