Featured here are a few of the many drawings I have made in some harmony with the drumming circle in Woodstock, New York. I have not been trying to “capture” the people in portraits, but to draw in rhythm with… Read More ›
American culture
In which a poet realizes he’d better exit a yoga class
Along the floor of that class there rippled such a rage, As woman upon woman waited on mats not rafts, For some soft music and exercises that thousands Of penguins badly needing icebergs would not assuage, Nor rid them of… Read More ›
Someone puts “Saxapahaw” in an e-mail and you have to write a poem
In Saxapahaw before the war Boys and girls were locked in remote cabins for weeks And given only toxic plants and rancid meat to eat A surefire way to identify the weak Those who crawled out – if half-crazed, still… Read More ›
The Love Song of an American President
We begin somewhat gently, as many courtships begin. Dressed with more class, she wanted him, while naturally he Felt the clothes on his back—this was for him to decide. Not, said the young lady, if you want me for your… Read More ›
A woman my views on (sex and on) women sought to gather
how lucky lovers are)whose selves abide under whatever shall discovered be) whose ignorant each breathing dares to hide more than most fabulous wisdom fears to see — E.E. Cummings A woman my views on (sex and) women seeks… Read More ›
The only show left in town
Below unfurls a script for an agitprop spectacle that emerges from and speaks to the current political crisis in the USA. Le brouillon d’une adaptation en français — « Le seul spectacle toujours programmé » — suit l’anglais. When… Read More ›
Sonnet for 9/27
One looks for a partner but can only be found by love. Since empirical research employs many more people than more intellectual pursuits, can it be wrong? We are on pace to die of canned laughter. The dog that I… Read More ›
