Recent Entries:

  • February 10th, 2008

    Asked why he wrote so few poems, William Meredith replied that “poetry and experience should have an exact ratio … Daily experience is astonishing on a level at which you can write a poem, but astonishing experience would be the experience which is not astonishment of reality but astonishment of insight.” Since the insights are rare, so are insightful poems.

  • February 9th, 2008

    When I finally met Patricia Goedicke in 1982 after several years of correspondence, she had already been dealing with breast cancer for five years. She was exactly one year and a day younger than my mother, and there she sat at a table in a Cambridge restaurant, provoking and teasing, wanting to know everything, praising, laughing, a little flirty.

  • February 3rd, 2008

    The power and deceptions of identities, perceived and assumed, have long been preoccupations of John Rechy. Born in El Paso in 1934, he grew up in a segregated city where Latino families lived on one side of the tracks. His mother was Mexican.

  • January 27th, 2008

    In the months and years after the murder of Americans and nationals in the destruction of the World Trade Center, poets Medina and Statman discovered in Lorca’s Poet in New York “the range of emotions we ourselves felt and images strangely reminiscent of the ones we witnessed on September 11 and its aftermath.” Soon after, they began collaborating on a new translation of Lorca’s m

  • January 20th, 2008

    “I loved the taste of those burgers. There was something about the combination of the grilled hamburger meat, chopped unions and the pickle.

  • January 20th, 2008

    I received my copy of The Gift as a gift from a poet friend, David Clewell, in 1983. Poets have been passing the book around for 25 years for two main reasons. First, there is the book's advocacy for the creative economy, the notion that the gift of art (“no effort in the world can cause its initial appearance”) flows between us as an energizing, mysterious force.