The Catherine-wheels ogled us from the embankment where the man who lit them was poking them, his face red from the fuse. Today, with the holiday over, my dear, you've gone back to your own city. Yesterday night the clarinets at the time of the explosions, and the voices of families sitting in the piazza…
Suddenly Frederick is not at her side. She stops and looks back. There he is, just standing there. He has dropped the duffel to the curb and is staring at his parents' house across the street. He rubs his black beard and shakes his head. Seeing this, she realizes he is facing a rare moment…
trans. Greek Martin McKinsey 1. It is one of the talents of great stylists to make obsolete words cease from appearing obsolete through the way in which they introduce them in their writing. Obsolete words which under the pens of others would seem stilted or out of place, occur most naturally under theirs. This is…
People ought to like poetry the way a child likes snow, and they would if the poets wrote it. Wallace Stevens Affection for poems is a personal thing, transcending time, fashion, and even friendship. We return less often to what we admire or approve of than to what we love, and there are surprisingly few…
The widow drove into the cemetery, parked near the mausoleum, and got out with her flowers. The next day was Memorial Day, and the cemetery would be thronged with people. Entire families would arrive to bring flowers to the graves of their loved ones. Tiny American flags would decorate the graves of the veterans. But…
trans. Greek Edmund Keeley Invulnerable body all naked so point-blank naked with the nipples still erect invulnerable to interior or exterior gunfire and that blue triumphant cunning and the wide trowel in hand covering the cement the smile of the second Christ. * * * Hidden behind the massive statue of Zeus he waits for the…
It's good to live near the water. Ships pass so close to land a man could reach out and break a branch from one of the willow trees that grow here. Horses run wild down by the water, along the beach. If the men on board wanted, they could fashion a lariat and throw it…
Early in November, only a few days before his son was to take the Scholastic Aptitude Test, Friedenthal learned that a list of the correct answers could, for a price, be had. He learned this from his business associate, Max Arkin. Arkin knew everything. A stout, darting man, whose freckled scalp winked with sweat through…
I can't stand it, he said. What other road? Season of the hungry dogs season of forgetfulness and memory season of disguises season of swindlers season of broken doors. I gave a penny to the blind man I climbed down from the stands stooped over unbuttoned my pants season of no raised flags. * * * That…
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