Reunion Just as he changes himself, in the end eternity changes him. —Mallarmé On the phonograph, the voice of a woman already dead for three decades, singing of a man who could make her do anything. On the table, two fragile glasses of black wine, a bottle wrapped in its towel. It is that room, […]
Poetry
Elegies
Elegy, by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825-1905) who was in fact the most successful and popular painter of his era, the very embodiment of everything the Impressionists were fighting against. I’ve had some provocative back and forths with Lisa the Poet regarding what poems can and cannot do. Poetry that is about poetry: Valid? The abuse of […]
Overlooking the Rest of Our Lives
My friend Lisa the Poet (referred to on this blog frequently as simply LP) had this to say about poets: “As far as those who can sustain many great poems over many years, the list for me is short: Berryman, Gluck, McMichael, Forche.” Yeah, she’s tough, so I take her recommendations very seriously. My daily […]
From Tzu Yeh
Open Window, by Pierre Bonnard Summer near the River themes from the Tzu Yeh and the Book of Songs I have carried my pillow to the windowsill And try to sleep, with my damp arms crossed upon it, But no breeze stirs the tepid morning. Only I stir … Come, tease me a little! With […]
Closing on the Hunger
Definitely What is desire But the hard wire argument given To the mind’s unstoppable mouth. Inside the braincase, it’s I Want that fills every blank. And then the hand Reaches for the pleasure The plastic snake offers. Someone says, Yes, It will all be fine in some future soon. Definitely. I’ve conjured a body In […]
The Politics of Nipples (We’re all Equal)
Breasts If I were French, I’d write about breasts, structuralist treatments of breasts, deconstructionist breasts, Gertrude Stein’s breasts in Père Lachaise under stately marble. Film noire breasts no larger than olives, Edith Piaf’s breasts shadowed under a song, mad breasts raving in the bird market on Sunday. Tanguy breasts softening the landscape, the politics of […]
The Spangles of Self to Burn
Big Song I have tried it. The brag, with permission of democracy. The royal we. The big words, like courage, excellence and power, brilliance. Have tried to supercede the bound- aries of skin, hair, scarred hands, the fatigue housed by the majority of my bones, to launch a spirit large as a whole group of […]
Retreat to the Roots
Things Shouldn’t Be So Hard A life should leave deep tracks: ruts where she went out and back to get the mail or move the hose around the yard; where she used to stand before the sink, a worn-out place; beneath her hand the china knobs rubbed down to white pastilles; the switch she used […]
The Hope of Skin
Study for Skin I, by Jasper Johns Two Countries Skin remembers how long the years grow when skin is not touched, a gray tunnel of singleness, feather lost from the tail of a bird, swirling onto a step, swept away by someone who never saw it was a feather. Skin ate, walked, slept by itself, […]
That Was All That Happened
The Day of the Sun Arriving early at the limit of understanding, I managed to find a good seat, and settled in with the others, who were fanning away the heat with their programs full of blank pages. The orchestra was in place, and soon the show started. First, deep space rose high and flooded […]