Returning – the long flight to the capital, then to the beach The palm trees, the taxi, the dirt road, dogs asleep, The long benches and table warm in the shade of the house. Each, that irretrievable afternoon, happy there… Read More ›
sex (more or less)
The Ballad of Don and Dee
At 9 in line at The Dry Goat Don, he heard these words from Dee: “How many lives must it consume – French pressed, small batch coffee?” The faded denim of her shirt Agreed with gentle breasts. Don, helping… Read More ›
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 ›
Writing doesn’t have to involve running away
I read a poem by a young woman About her attachment to female racehorses. I know they come first, she concluded. Something like that. I thought, being a man, I should write About stallions – their muscles? speed? power?… Read More ›
Mani-Pedi, a toxic Christian poem? with extensive footnotes?
Or, This being the notes of a lonely poet who has passed a neighborhood nail salon packed to the gills on a rainy Sunday evening Sometime after a Jewish Mary without exertion hatched a Christ, Lawsuit-seducing Catholics thought their… Read More ›
Quand – l’argent – le métier – leur dévouement à l’art –
When – his money – her work – her devotion to art {The English version, though chronologically the first and perhaps freer of a foreigner’s faults, here follows the French, stanza by stanza. La version française, quoique écrit après l’anglais… Read More ›
Art, Sex, Politics (Serving House Books)
In a new, provocative collection of essays, William Eaton, the author of Surviving the Twenty-First Century, shares the pleasures of questions, tastes, reading and more visual arts. That we are animals, that is as sure as ever. How savagely we… Read More ›
