Molly Fisk: The Fox Laughs at the Hounds
voices chorusing woods and fields, ringing
off the stone walls she runs beside, light
and fleet, silent as new snow falling through
Meg Pokrass: Puppy Breath
I had his phone number, the guy from the A.A. meeting. I held it in my hands. I was terrible on the phone, but he would never call me. He said he couldn’t approach women. It was up to me.
Video: My Dead Dad’s Porno Tapes
Was my father’s leftover stuff the key to who he really was?
Sandy Solomon: Grammar Lout
Liz thinks we ought to have a day
devoted to apostrophes
In which we add or rub them out
in bands of roving grammar louts.
Cornelius Eady: Charlie Chaplin Impersonates a Poet
Here is the little tramp, standing
On a stack of books in order
To reach the microphone
Meg Pokrass: The Agonizingly Beautiful Noses of Norwegians
Tonight, Albert Albertson took me to a foreign film at the Cinemaclub – a Norwegian film in which ten gorgeous people died. The women had agonizingly beautiful noses. Their deaths were as agonizing as their noses, and it seemed fitting, or at least it fit, and I didn’t feel as sad as I would have felt watching normally attractive people die.
Bernd Brunner: Here’s to the lost art of lying down
The legendary Roman dining couch, known as the klinai, was made from wood or stone, covered with cloth, and designed for lying down. I sometimes wonder how comfortable it really was. Then again, since people 2,000 years ago weren’t acquainted with comfort in the modern, well-cushioned sense, they probably enjoyed it much more than we would today.
Ed Ochester: Trump Diary
two daily kos comments:
“Trump is closer to 300
than 200 lbs and also
eats a diet of shit”;
“Ronald McDonald may get
the Medal of Freedom yet.”
Baruch November: Our Captain Speaking
hard pretzels curved to the shape
of life’s perilous twists
David Huddle: She and My Granddad
Granddad–at war with Grandmama all
my life but drawn to women, always polite–
would have said, Yes ma’am, can’t nobody run her.
Ellen McGrath Smith: My Mother at the Alamo
I would later doubt my mother at the sink, her bruised eye shut, or my mother kneeling
near the orange bucket full of dirty water, ready to snap as drunken rants poured down.
Abby Zimet: The Planet is on Fucking Fire
Bill Nye: “I didn’t mind explaining photosynthesis to you when you were 12. But you’re adults now, and this is an actual crisis, got it?”
Video: Emily Levine, Philosopher-Comic
In this brilliant, funny, and largehearted meditation recorded in April, 2017, Emily Levine offers a meditation on life and death as she faces her own terminal illness. Some years back, Emily graduated cum laude from Harvard, intent on pursuing a career as an Oracle.
Peter Schireson: Woof
I take Buster out for his walk, above us, wild geese fly south, honking, going nowhere, geese without edges, no longer geese. Where did they go? asked Baso. “Away,” Hyakujo … Continue reading
