I’m on the brink–
I’m back I think,
And I won’t blink
At scattering ink
Or making a stink—
I’ll never shrink
From rhyme, or link
To folly, or wink
And have a drink
I’m on the brink!
June 25, 2016 No Comments
When I got home my wife was gone, and so
I bought a mandolin—eight more strings
To tie me to a world I didn’t know,
In which my daughter’s fenced from me by rings
Of law and fear. Almost the only things
Her mother let us share before the end
Were meals and music. Maybe she still sings
“I’ll Meet You in the Morning” with a friend,
And thinks of me, and remembers how we’d spend
Our Wednesdays with a funny jugband song,
A round, a Scottish air. I could depend
On her to get them right when I was wrong—
Her ear was better. She was eight years old.
What songs we sang when she was mine to hold!
April 17, 2015 No Comments
Wherever you are, I hope you’re doing good work and feeling good about yourself.
April 17, 2015 No Comments
Speaker John Boehner must
Kneel to his masters, his
Pants at his knees—
Tea Party hooligans,
Corporate money men,
Bankers and plutocrats
Do as they please.
November 9, 2014 4 Comments
I’ve got two poems, an older sonnet and a brand-new sestina up at Halvard Johnson’s Truck. Be sure to check out some of the other poetry there. Anny Ballardini is guest curator for today’s work, and she’s done a great job, if I do say so myself.
Update: I didn’t notice until I saw the sestina posted, but there’s an extra foot in the first line of the last sestet. This fixes it: “Whoever’s there that day to kill the lights,”
November 3, 2014 1 Comment
Austin Allen’s review of George Green’s Lord Byron’s Foot is fabulous. Allen has the guts to write that “Literary gossip is the final, whispered retort to New Criticism!,” and the quoted passages from Green’s book damn near prove it.
And here’s what else I want: some of Allen’s own poetry. Unfortunately all I can find is his Big Think blog.
April 27, 2014 No Comments
I’m not kidding: look here.
April 25, 2014 No Comments
Hope you’re well and happy and doing good work.
April 17, 2014 No Comments
We were looking for beer to accompany our Indian takeout tonight, and were disappointed that the liquor store we visited, run by Indian immigrants, had no Indian beers in stock. But they assured us that they would have some very soon, and they did have chocolate peanut butter porter from DuClaw, named Sweet Baby Jesus. We bought it, though we’ll probably find some other place to get some Kingfisher or Taj Mahal for tonight’s meal.
Sweet Baby Jesus!
March 22, 2014 No Comments
I was very lucky, back in the 1970’s, to be able to work with Ms Kumin in workshops arranged by Sena Jeter Naslund at the University of Louisville. She had a tremendous influence on me at the time, and I’ve never stopped reading her work.
I think of what drops from us and must then
be moved to make way for the next and the next.
However much we stain the world, spatter
it with out leavings, make stenches, defile
the great formal oceans with what leaks down
trundling off today’s last barrow-full
I honor shit for saying: We go on.
February 8, 2014 No Comments