Doug Anderson: On Politics, Poetry and Love
Truth pronounced begins to petrify. Except in the case words so woven they keep an inner fire alive that flares at the reader’s breath. Poetry is yeast inside language. Imagination … Continue reading
Doug Anderson: The Eye of the Heart
Opens in sleep when there are no fingers to close it. As if it were dead. It is open all day as well but only speaks in the dark when … Continue reading
Doug Anderson: The Men Who Fought the War
The Vietnam War lives in kind of a fog just off our left shoulder. It hovers there, will not go away, demands to be seen. But we don’t look. It … Continue reading
Doug Anderson: The Shoplifter
When the security guard Grabbed him by his jacket When he ran He wriggled out of it Left the guard Holding it, like a lizard’s tail In a cat’s mouth. … Continue reading
Doug Anderson: Number 1 Broadway Local, 1981
Armpits soaked through shirts, through suit jackets, urinous funk of a madwoman sleeping, taking up two seats in a subway car crammed with the silent going home, the last bit … Continue reading
Doug Anderson: Street Photography
Wonder how long it took people to get over the shock of the first photographs, the exact replication of the human image? Was it eerie? Did people feel that something … Continue reading
Doug Anderson: How Nazis
The man in the driver’s seat of the minivan is just short of backhanding his wife but screams instead. The contractor towing a backhoe shouts at a woman who has … Continue reading
Doug Anderson: Procedure
While the doctors were riding around in me in their little chrome submarine, and a sniper with his snippers stood by the bay door poised to pluck any polyp stupid … Continue reading
Doug Anderson: A Marriage
There is the infatuation with poetry, the first publication, first book, first prize, the dreams of fame and universal importance and then there is the marriage to poetry, the fading … Continue reading
Doug Anderson: Waiting for the Marriage Counselor
The skeletal bride and groom in the little glass box. The sugar skulls. Let us love one another and not wake the graveyard with our bickering. How we make war … Continue reading
Doug Anderson: Mother Death
Week doesn’t go by I don’t think of them,
the men I couldn’t help,
watched their lips turn blue then
rattle out their soul
Doug Anderson: Odysseus
It does not happen as they say, the body sluffing off and leaving light. No. It’s terrible. All those Who came home whole from Troy now in nursing homes in … Continue reading
Doug Anderson: Embracing Imperfection
I knew it would happen sooner or later. Now someone is claiming that Mother Teresa was a bitch. I think that we create problems for ourselves when we imagine that … Continue reading
Doug Anderson: There is a point beyond believing
There is a point beyond believing where you don’t have to try, where the wonder of what simply is blooms in the silence. — Copyright 2016 Doug Anderson
