Feminist readings have highlighted the female character’s power, autonomy and sensuality. Conservative Christians, meanwhile, often approach the poem as an ideal expression of acceptable love between a husband and wife.
One of the defining aspects of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s first novel, This Side of Paradise, is poetry. The novel, devoted to the boyhood, young manhood, and then manhood proper (which is to say—war, disillusionment, and lost love) of Amory Blaine, traces the evolution of Amory’s sensibility.
After you died, I pulled a copy of Gatsby
From your shelf — torn, underlined, smudged
With marginalia — but still beautiful
In an unbound unglued sort of way.
Under the billionaire minimum income tax, billionaires would pay a tax rate of at least 20 percent on their full income, including unrealized appreciation, just like workers pay taxes on their paychecks each year.
A lantern light from deeper in the barn
Shone on a man and woman in the door
And threw their lurching shadows on a house
Near by, all dark in every glossy window.
Life in a Destabilized California
Because of a parade, the road to Bushmills is closed.
It’s the only road that leads to Portrush, a town
less than nine miles away, where we’ve been told
there’s a laundromat.
George Santos lied profusely. Elizabeth Holmes lied scientifically. Vladimir Putin has at his command an organized system for propagating lies and deceit, and he’s not alone.
Papp was a communist, raven-haired, charismatic,
His mission: free Shakespeare for the people.
He borrwed lights & props, scrounged for costumes.
Even his wife didn’t know Yussef Papirovsky
began as a tough street kid in Brooklyn.
Police killed more people last year than any other on record. Can reimagining city budgets make our communities safer?
The last time I was charmed
simply by someone’s good looks
it was something like 1963.
The history of the suppression of Black voters is a first-rate horror story that as yet shows no sign of ending.
The bass
line thumps and grinds, the honky tonk piano moves like an ivory
river, full of swampy delta blues.
When I die, lay me in the loam under the big oak
on the path through the woods, deep down in the endless
flow of talk among the trees there…