Wang Jiaxin: Two Poems
Walking down the scorching streets of Moscow,
Osip turned to Anna and said:
“I’m ready to die.”
Rimbaud said that every poem is the last.
November 23, 2025 · 17 Comments
Edna St. Vincent Millay: “Parisian Dream” by Charles Baudelaire
And, proud of what my art had done,
I viewed my painting, knew the great
Intoxicating monotone
Of marble, water, steel and slate.
July 31, 2020 · Leave a comment
Justin Vicari: Encounters with Rimbaud
It’s found again.
What? — Eternity.
It’s the sea
making love to the sun.
May 8, 2020 · 2 Comments
Arlene Weiner: Nearer
All day our brilliant screens show without letup hysterical screamers winning money prizes, a woman sneering at another’s getup, boys doing jackass stunts in various guises, in aspiration to become … Continue reading
February 18, 2018 · Leave a comment
Djelloul Marbrook: The donnée as entry to the temple
A crucial point in the making of some poems, especially long ones, arrives when the poet must decide whether to push through a kind of caesura in the process. That’s the … Continue reading
January 28, 2018 · 2 Comments
