Pierre Reverdy / Translated from the French by Dan Bellm
A little mark shines between your fluttering eyelids. The room is empty, and the shutters come open in the dust. It must be the day or some memory that brings tears to your eyes. The landscape of the wall—the horizon behind—your disordered memory—and the sky nearer. There are trees and clouds, protruding heads, and hands hurt by the light. Then a curtain falls and shrouds all these shapes in darkness.
Two more poems at A Public Space.
Claude McKay speaking at the Kremlin.
On this day in 1846, Elizabeth Barrett, 40, and Robert Browning, 34, were secretly married at London’s St. Marylebone Church.
PW Poetry Reviews September Amuse Bouche
Now that you’ve packed away your seersucker for the season, you can concentrate on what really matters fashion-wise: being seen in public with one of these books…
The Bottom. Betsy Andrews (42 Miles)
Ecodeviance: (Soma)tics for the Future Wilderness. CAConrad (Wave)
Precarious. Allan Peterson (42 Miles)
Prelude to Bruise. Saeed Jones (Coffee House)
Red Juice: Poems 1998–2008. Hoa Nguyen (Wave)
Rome. Dorothea Lasky (Norton/Liveright)
Soy Realidad. Tomaz Salamun (Dalkey Archive)
The Book of Joshua. Zachary Schomburg (Black Ocean)
The Logan Notebooks. Rebecca Lindenberg (Colorado State Univ./Center for Literary Publishing)
Change Machine. Bruce Covey (Noemi)
Tweaky Village. Kevin Killian (Wonder)
Time Is a Toy: The Collected Poems of Michael Benedikt. John Gallaher & Laura Boss, eds. (Univ. of Akron)
Dorothea Lasky is the author of ROME, as well as Thunderbird, Black Life, and AWE. She is a co-editor of Open the Door: How to Excite Young People About Poetry (McSweeney’s, 2013). She is an Assistant Professor of Poetry at Columbia University’s School of the Arts and lives in Brooklyn….
Ohara Hale’s delightful illustrations of Denise Levertov’s poems.
via Brain Pickings
Here it is for pre-order.
One hundred poems. One hundred voices. One hundred different points of view.
Here is a cross-section of American poetry as it is right now—full of grit and love, sparkling with humor, searing the heart, smashing through boundaries on every page. Please Excuse This Poem features one hundred acclaimed younger poets from truly diverse backgrounds and points of view, whose work has appeared everywhere from The New Yorker to Twitter, tackling a startling range of subjects in a startling range of poetic forms. Dealing with the aftermath of war; unpacking the meaning of “the rape joke”; sharing the tender moments at the start of a love affair: these poems tell the world as they see it.
Editors Brett Fletcher Lauer and Lynn Melnick have crafted a book that is a must-read for those wanting to know the future of poetry. With an introduction from award-winning poet, editor, and translator Carolyn Forché, Please Excuse This Poem has the power to change the way you look at the world. It is The Best American Nonrequired Reading—in poetry form.
When the corpse revived at the funeral,
The outraged mourners killed it; and the soul
Of the revenant passed into the body
Of the poet because it had more to say.
He sat down at the piano no one could play
Called Messiah, or The Regulator of the World,
Which had stood for fifty years, to my…
The Conversation by Lauren Shapiro
There is always a woman eating a sandwich.
Today she is large as everything
that wasn’t said. It is ham and cheese.
Who cares. You’re watching me, she seems
to say. Being alone is unlike a chess move.
It is unlike hanging out at the bowling alley
with Dale Hickey. A hundred stuffed animals
the size of a fist and I can’t make the claw catch.
Turkey, says Dale Hickey. The lights
are making turkey shapes all over
the place.Turkey. I heard you.
The woman has finished eating her sandwich
and is on to another one. Now she is tiny
as a shrimp. She is eating the smallest
egg salad sandwich in the world. I think,
Maybe I will speak to her. But she does it first.
I’ve wanted to talk to you for ages, she says,
but instead I keep eating all these sandwiches.
I know, I say. And I keep going to the bowling alley
with Dale Hickey. It’s been hell.
Read what the author has to say about the poem.