Lammon: Doing this interview with you reminds me of Hall's story in Remembering Poets. Hall went to interview T.S. Eliot and brought with him two "technicians" – Louis Simpson and yourself. Bly: Yes. The days before I had said: "Don, let me go with you." He said, "No, Robert," "Come on, Don. He'll be dead…
For John Chapman (1775-1845) It is not the man of action that we in the fragmented world envy, for often we know too well why we ourselves do not act. It is the man of mission, the one who embodies his purposes naturally in all his acts, whose days interweave, he is the one we…
(from a novel in progress) The sleep of reason brings forth monsters. Francisco Goya He lay prone on the rutted stone path, his bare torso raised and supported by his right forearm, while his left arm and open hand reached vainly toward the empty cave where late had rested the dead body of the Christ…
1. From the dark yard by the sheep barn the cock crowed to the sun’s pale spectral foreblossoming eastward in June, crowed, and crowed later each day through fall and winter, this grand conquistador of January drifts, this almost-useless vain strutter with wild monomaniac eye, burnished swollen chest, yellow feet serpent-scaled, and bloodred comb, who…
All morning, the man roofs the house he has dreamt the night before walking with the wood in his hands which is growing as he holds it. The hammer falls, is falling, one knee bent he slams the nail into its silence & out again into the great world bird, rushing into sight, smaller now…
(from a novel in progress) Maurice Pelletier, four years old, stood in front of an armoire mirror practicing his solo tap routine to "Anchors Aweigh." No music played. He mouthed the words silently with tiny cherub lips and his ordinary house shoes made muffled slaps on the carpet. He wore a white sailor suit and…
Even close to the end when nothing works except one hand my brother goes to the Special Cases pool where cheerful athletes reposition his puppet bones in a canvas sling scoot him down the ramp into tepid water adjust his flotation collar and cut him loose. Speech has left him, but not joy. I carry…
The day has barely lifted before the rain begins, and I sit down at the desk littered with unanswered letters and look out into the garden abandoned now to ragweed and sour- grass. The gentians we planted have been dead for weeks, but still their stalks turn strangely green, and the spent leaves, too, scattered…
". . . as good an explanation as any for the panic is that all the intelligent people were listening to Charlie McCarthy." – A "prominent social scientist" quoted by Hadley Cantrill in The Invasion from Mars Accounts of this kind often begin by giving you the line on some immediate menace. The geeks are…
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