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EAT THEIR YOUNG(For Marina) A statue looms among square boxes in the likeness of Gibraltar, undeniable, self-assured. No matter what happens:none of it matters. Favoured deep blue...
“There is no love of life without despair of life,” Albert Camus wrote between two world wars. There are many species of despair — the private despair of ill health and heartbreak,...
Being a student of Monica Ferrell’s was a singularly influential time in my life. Immediately upon meeting her, I wanted to be like her: to enter a room with the same serious allur...
"You may have to break your heart, but it isn’t nothing to know even one moment alive."
places between. sunken tethers. voices in skin. quiet and absolute. too close to see. too far to reach. a murder of consent. a bargain with time. far too reliant on the generosity...
The woman is perfected / Her dead / Body wears the smile of accomplishment” (Plath, “Edg...
the circlerepeatstightenswith agecrushinganaging heartI cannotbreathethroughthese lifetimesoflossinsteadI reliveoldpain4AM lastsan eternityeach mourning behindthe scenesthe kingst...
“Words are events, they do things, change things… transform both speaker and hearer… feed energy back and forth and amplify it… feed understanding or emotion back and forth and amp...
The poet joins Kevin Young to read and discuss “Carrowmore,” by Lucie Brock-Broido, and her own poem “The Fifties.”
"Whatever returns from oblivion returns to find a voice."
In a recent conversation with my poetic physicist friend Alan Lightman, sparring over whether the creative spirit can be usefully divided into complementary arts and science (Alan’...
Happy April, and Happy National Poetry Month. Since my dormant love of poetry was reignited, I’ve found it so refreshing and inspiring to read beautiful collections each year and s...
Christina Rivera's recent book, MY OCEANS, awakens our lived connections to the more-than-human world and helps rebuild the harmonies of a care-based society.
Lani Guinier’s birthday was earlier this month. She would have been 76 years old. And as I find myself doing each year, I return not just to her work—which speaks powerfully on its...
I was born and raised in Los Angeles, a city where one can still get away with growing up in majority “minority” schools and neighborhoods. And I mostly did. I attended an elementa...
The poet joins Kevin Young to read and discuss “The Schoolroom on the Second Floor of the Knitting Mill,” by Judy Page Heitzman, and her own poem “Mami at Her Vanity.”
I was a latecomer to poetry, curling my nose at it in that confounding and rather embarrassing way we have of discounting what we don’t understand, dismissing as useless what we do...
I am an unapologetic newspaper clipper. Now when my husband and I are involved in a process of cleaning out our long-time home, I am finding numerous clippings going back to the 19...
Twelve years ago, I committed to a life in philosophy—knowing it meant poverty and prolonged adolescence. Years of it. Maybe forever, given the job market’s generosity toward philo...
It was hard for us, the way you diedevery day, slowly and then all at once,just as such things are said to happen.Spring came, so soon it almost seemedyou could’ve waited, but I kn...
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