
dreamlessness, [i]
She will not let her calf sink to the sea floor. She will not take her to sea-shelf edge and …
She will not let her calf sink to the sea floor. She will not take her to sea-shelf edge and …
This malaise and the fatigue of late summer—how to know its fat underside? I am in a thing. Worse: I …
On a rainy day in Bombay, I am listening to the sui generis jazz measures of Alfa Mist’s Antiphon. The …
— Self conforms to One’s own. Lacan’s minions would sputter: Cell of. I. Mine. Excavation. Troves of veins. A quelled …
A very lean and cautious love wants to talk limits. Some writers of Writing are so so lean, full of …
A rapping at the door with fist’s rhythm—or worse, with a knocker. Lève la tête and open. Aha, it’s a …
The dog looks through my looking at him; butternut-coloured, an electric yellow strand clasped around its neck. The dog—a shiba …
I don’t go to poems for skillful ease or what’s rote. I come seeking an empathic witness, what the Sufi calls ruhul seyrani—the …
Few things embolden the iconoclast like punditry’s insistence on singing mediocrity. Like recent books by Louise Glück (whose Faithful and Virtuous …
A lamb could not get born. Ice wind Out of a downpour dishclout sunrise. The mother Lay on the mudded …
I took the AP Literature examination near the end of my junior year in high school. From what I recall, …
A used book was gifted me by the Ma: The New Poetry: An Anthology, published 1917, edited by Harriet Monroe. …
Invention sleeps within a skull No longer quick with light, The hive that hummed in every cell Is now …
In his seminal “Avant-Garde and Kitsch” (if you haven’t read it, head [here] right away), art historian and critic Clement …
Without minimizing the joy and magic that poetry enacts in place, there is the further possibility that poetry can do more than entertain …
Elegy in a Spider’s Web What to say when the spider Say when the spider what When the spider the …
Let’s be frank: the ‘edgy’ in poetry is a called-for characteristic of the most nebulous sort. Yet a cursory look …
Stephanie Rose Adams and I recently concluded that strands connecting every bit of especially bad verse—take nearly all the poems …
Let’s say, for a moment, that I am among that widening claque of poets who feel less and less tethered …