A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
see my dead house,
look at broken Spain
Just to the right of the lifeguard shack, a couple was fucking on a chaise longue . in the first row of many rows of chairs which had been set … Continue reading →
We live in an age of tarnished idols. Picasso was a womanizer, drunk with his own success, having been born into the pivotal moment of modernism and thus achieving more … Continue reading →
I have never known how to be eloquent in my appreciation. The world’s magnitude, knowledge, acknowledgement, the joy of a gift received, smooth as a comet’s passing, all this and … Continue reading →
What are poets for in destitute times? — Hölderlin . Every poem is a subversive act. In an age when our senses are benumbed by competing media screaming for our … Continue reading →
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