More specifically concerning: poetastery
28.02.02 – Thursday
Note: I can no longer see where the pillow was stained when you spilled coffee on it.
15.03.02 – Friday
Most mornings, when I wake, I stumble to the kitchen to make myself an espresso. This has, by now, become a habit so ingrained that the very smell of strong coffee causes me to feel as though I were wearing pajamas and had just rolled out of bed. It’s a comfortable feeling. If I were […]
three limericks in honor of Diodorus Siculus.
a triolet occasioned by the coming of spring.
It takes an odd sort of mind to give the title ‘A Gallery of Pigeons’ to a slender volume of light verse, especially if it includes a poem called ‘A Tragedy’ which contains the word ‘plop’ (more than once). So it was with some surprise I found a passage I almost liked in Marzials’ aforementioned […]
it was the distance…
a love-song, a love-song.
lines written in Oregon
Our little ship with paper sail Sets out upon the sea – A narrow nutshell for the boards Holds us both in state; And with brave splinter for a mast ’T will weather any gale.
He had told me himself more than once that he never got up before twelve, and seldom earlier than one. Constitutionally the laziest young devil in America, he had hit on a walk in life which enabled him to go the limit in that direction. He was a poet. At least, he wrote poems when […]
hope against hope (4)
A bit of Caravaggio’s painting of ‘Saint Jerome Writing’ It’s taken me a while to get through Hope Mirrlees’ Collected Poems, perhaps because it confounded my expectations (which were admittedly a bit confused). Eager readers of Mirrlees’ work or those interested in her life should, of course, pick up a copy, as it is contains […]