At last the secret is out, as it always must come in the end,
The delicious story is ripe to tell to the intimate friend;
Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain
On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me
Art, you claimed: born of humiliation.
You knew that early & you had the gift
of double focus, of seeing the world
with more than one lens.
“We must love one another or die.” — W.H. Auden What caused you to think it was a lie, Old Master—that either/or that gave you pause in “September 1, … Continue reading →
We tap dance down the highway. There’s an exit. Who made me a pharoah? Dare I gesture — or reach for a cigarette? Shouldn’t I be on the banks … Continue reading →
“We must love one another or die.” Today W.H. Auden’s poem September 1, 1939 resonates more than ever. First published in The New Republic in October 1939, it marks the … Continue reading →
Say this city has ten million souls, Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes: Yet there’s no place for us, my dear, yet there’s no place for … Continue reading →
Long before the final results, many Americans knew that our body politic had suffered a seizure after being injected with a poison that nothing in Hillary Clinton’s politics was potent … Continue reading →
. W.H. Auden’s “The Shield of Achilles” written in 1952, is the title poem of the collection that won the 1955 National Book Award. The poem is composed in alternating … Continue reading →
About suffering they were never wrong,
The old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position
The date marked the moment when Germany invaded Poland, initiating the start of World War II. “September 1, 1939″ was originally published in The New Republic on October 18, 1939. … Continue reading →