Joan E. Bauer: They Left Chicago Behind
Saul Bellow called Chicago: a prairie city with a waterfront
& the trees he remembers, elms & cottonwoods.
Tony Magistrale: Thinking about Brueghel on a Sunday Afternoon
Despite the ice-bound world outside my own winter window,
how much colder it appears there
in the teal-tinted landscapes they inhabit.
Anonymous: I Get By With a Little Help From Depends
Some of the artists of the ’60s are revising their hits with new lyrics to accommodate aging baby boomers.
The Ancient Icelandic Saga Voluspo: “The Wise-Woman’s Prophecy”
Fast move the sons | of Mim, and fate
Is heard in the note | of the Gjallarhorn;
Loud blows Heimdall, | the horn is aloft,
In fear quake all | who on Hel-roads are
Thomas Bulfinch: Simonides
On one occasion, when the poet was residing at the court of Scopas, king of Thessaly, the prince desired Simonides to prepare a poem in celebration of his exploits, to be recited at a banquet.
Arlene Weiner: My Desk Chair
Female, useful, you keep your dignity though your lap’s full of odd socks, haphazard mending. You were old sixty years ago, dressed in Goodwill’s sad maroon stain, scarred with nailholes … Continue reading
David Kirby: The Little Sisters of the Sacred Heart
I’m wondering if, as I walk by later when the shadows are long,
will their white faces be like stars against their black habits