… The photo above is Life Cafe, or what is left of Life Cafe, 10th Street and Avenue B, NYC. (Oh those were the days!) Confucius—or was it Lao Tzu?—said that we should never be too happy on a good day because a good day … Read More →
Category Archives: Uncategorized
La Beauté par Charles Baudelaire
… Je suis belle, ô mortels! comme un rêve de pierre, Et mon sein, où chacun s’est meurtri tour à tour, Est fait pour inspirer au poète un amour Eternel et muet ainsi que la matière. Je trône dans l’azur comme un sphinx incompris; J’unis … Read More →
In my words, April 15 – 21
… When I got home from work Monday afternoon, the news from Boston came over the Internet and spread so quickly that when I went to teach my evening class at PS 188, the security guards were talking about it. You could see on their … Read More →
In my words, April 1 – 7
…. On April Fool’s Day, a friend, Dustin Kelly, who has become a berry farmer and producer of jellies, announced on Facebook: “Hey everybody, great news! It was kind of a back up plan, but I got an acceptance letter for a summer internship with … Read More →
Sonnets 61 – 90
61 Things are often more beautiful at a distance, but not you. The closer the more inevitable you become. Before I thought beauty was what I saw, that the superficial awed but I was wrong. Your skin is really you as fragrant as the rose … Read More →
In my words, March 4 – 10
… Thursday after class as I walked down Fourteenth Street in the cold drizzling rain, I stopped at the Duane Reade on Third Avenue and asked, “Do you have an enema bag?” “Enema?” the Bengali fellow asked. “Enema,” I repeated. He led me to the … Read More →
In my words, February 18 – 24
… I met my friend Bill Kushner on Friday at 9th Avenue and 23rd Street. It was high noon. I jumped off the bus and there was Bill, hood of his parka up over his head carrying his bag with his pen and notebook in … Read More →
Sonnet 158: Like the dried up dead wasp with its venom
… Like the dried up dead wasp with its venom gone rolled up on the windowsill like a ball of dust my mother slumbers with her head bent near a bowl of fruit Pat Maples sent listening to Ella Fitzgerald sing, a dying lady and … Read More →
Sonnet 111: Almost December, Thanksgiving over
111 Almost December, Thanksgiving over Outside is frozen once again. The warm TV is on and logs burn in the stove. I am eating Aunt Fern’s dried tomatoes Dessicated skins like mummies from the Pyramids. Yum Yum Yum all of her Love’s Ripe on my … Read More →
ARTE POÉTICA por Pablo Neruda
ENTRE sombra y espacio, entre guarniciones y doncellas, dotado de corazón singular y sueños funestos, precipitadamente pálido, marchito en la frente y con luto de viudo furioso por cada día de vida, ay, para cada agua invisible que bebo soñolientamente y de todo sonido que … Read More →
Students & Sonnet 66: My Spanish-speaking students ask me where
December 21, 2011 On discussing the qualities of confidence the other day, a group of my students decided that the ability to be persuaded, to change your mind was a quality of confidence, because only those with confidence in their own abilities to make choices … Read More →
Sonnet 36: I see how strong a fragile thing can be
… I see how strong a fragile thing can be. Look! A butterfly comes spreading its wings over its own reflection fluttering out in the middle of a pond so deep and close you’d think no insect strength could last the distance to reach land, … Read More →