Under the bed I found your old sock Like a bird peeking out The sleeve of my shirt. I plucked it up. So sad, little foot, Now it's in the pocket Of my coat for luck. Later in the earth I'll feed its nest, Worms a plenty In my good dark suit.
Thirty-seven years after publication of the first Selected Poems of William Carlos Williams, New Directions has given us a new one. In 1949 Williams himself did the selecting, and Randall Jarrell was called upon to provide an introduction. Charles Tomlinson, an Englishman who did not "seriously begin to read Williams until 1956-his Desert Music and…
These people in the future won't be like us. Oh no, they'll be kinder and their foreheads will bulge past their noses with wisdom. They'll have our pictures of course, although they won't be snapshots as we know them but little holographs, three-dimensional photos, so when one takes one from his pocket it will look…
I want to say night is a flaming tuba but that is not right. In flame and tuba we do not see deer migrating through the pine forest or the full moon sitting in a fat chair reading your latest book of poems. We do not see the accidental death of two teenagers on the…
I A Contradiction of Fundamental Logic "If the motion of the world aimed at a final state, that state would have been reached," Nietzsche writes in Will To Power (#708). To build a poetics upon that notion, as John Ashbery has done, is to insist upon its corollary, the notion of eternal return. It is…
blue wing I found you a monarch flown from his route along the meridian into my tarred driveway where is your mate who was always with you and is not used to solitary travel I took you for an heir of blueness a passenger of seasons I took you for orchid the pupa wakes to…
In her studio an artist begins to paint a portrait of Saint Francis in his beast-colored robe. He is bending slightly forward preaching to the birds. With short vertical strokes she paints the birds white, the mountains blue. She outlines the features of his face, thin lips, high cheekbones, a golden halo. She paints the…
MASTHEAD Directors DeWitt Henry Peter O'Malley Coordinating Editor for This Issue Charles Simic Managing Editor Jennifer Rose CONTRIBUTORS Jonathan Aaron's Second Sight was published by Harper & Row in 1982. He is currently finishing his second collection and learning to speak Spanish. Roberta Bienvenu lives in Boone County, Missouri. Lynn Boulger is alive and well…
So what if your name is “Burning Bush”— hair like fire, that bright, that red. And fingers delicate as birthday candles. So what if you look a little eerie, so pale and thin astride that bony nag. Still you are the luminous madonna — both lodestar and throat-lump in one. Without you, my voice…
No products in the cart.