Nobody
Told
Me
Thursday, July 3, 2025
Wednesday, July 2, 2025
C.D. WRIGHT ~
Light Bulb Poem
at 4 o'clock I am at the door
with a bare hand of snow
laughing shamelessly
I undo my shirt
we'll pick up at the next chapter
my beloved are the words of the rambler
if not the words the substance
the snow smeared across my front
warm to the touch
though we remain separated as if by a chair
and I unwilling to read ahead
Amarillo Poem
A room across from a sporting house. With the dark,
I watched a woman washing the men off; then herself
she washed with a different cloth. It was fall. I was sitting
on my bed in my flame-proof gown. Every morning
I had to jump aboard my suitcase to get it to close.
Poem With Some Water Damage
She kept boarders kept hens
in the heart of town
heard birds whenever I phoned
now bullhorn now chopper
someone puts a plate in her hands
hours later someone takes the plate
from her hands Damn he says
if it ain't overcast again
Poem With A Dead Tree
it is late afternoon
she avoids looking
in its direction
she can feel
it moving toward her
in shaky black lines
Poem From The End Of Old Wire Road
hands as heavy as rocks
in the pockets of a Goodwill coat
kicking up leaves
she uncovers four trout lilies
Ah spring how it made her
want to walk backwards
or stick a fork in her side
Poem Before Breakfast
She pulled the sundress over her head
Forgetting her pants, her sandals,
And her ring.
Leaving her glasses on the sink
She unlatched the screen.
With her lunch money
Tucked in her pocket;
Her clean manila hair
Settling down her back.
She went out on her toes
To see if the painted bunting
Had fled her wedding bush.
____________________
C.D. Wright
The Essential C.D. Wright
edited by Forrest Gander & Michael Wiegers
Copper Canyon Press, 2025
Tuesday, July 1, 2025
Monday, June 30, 2025
M.A. REDCHERRIES ~
america never looked for us
I forget my name and it turns me gold
canned heat inn winter is warm
when I find you and
listen to
all we've become
can you dream in color
if you were not born in color?
you once told me we could never separate
being Native from
the original
big migration
into
you're in america now.
____________________
M.S. Redcherries
Mother
Penguin Books, 2024
Sunday, June 29, 2025
Saturday, June 28, 2025
XI CHUAN ~
Louvre Messages
The palace is always haunted.
The pond does not lack reflections.
* * *
The sea never reflects the sky quietly.
Empty mountains are indifferent to the presence of life and death.
* * *
This "moment" refuses to understand time greater than a moment.
Ordinary flowers of the moment form a collective.
* * *
Angels without a collective greet each other across generations.
Their remnants stars of a single era.
* * *
Don't try so hard, idiot:
The goddess of victory is the goddess of victory even without her head.
Putting her arms back on wouldn't make Venus any sweeter.
* * *
The gods stare at statues of gods to recognize themselves.
No matter how strong the sunlight is, it needs the help of lightbulbs.
* * *
But staring at anything too long
is an intrusion on its past and future lives.
* * *
Let your thoughts go wild, idiot:
Angels are angels because when they fly
they can see the dust on the heads of "everything."
August 18, 2023
____________________
Translated from the Chinese by Lucas Klein
from At the Louvre
NYRB, 2024
Friday, June 27, 2025
Thursday, June 26, 2025
Wednesday, June 25, 2025
Tuesday, June 24, 2025
Monday, June 23, 2025
Sunday, June 22, 2025
Saturday, June 21, 2025
Friday, June 20, 2025
Thursday, June 19, 2025
LOVE SONG OF THE PLATANOS MADUROS ~
LOVE SONG OF THE PLATANOS MADUROS
No, this is not a song for us, ripe plantains sliced and fried in a pan.
This is a song for you, a song in praise of your mouth and tongue,
a song anticipating your anticipation of the first bite into our yellow
hearts, a song to celebrate the delirium of the first kiss from you.
No, this is not a song for us, the alchemy of the tough skin green,
then yellow, then black. This is a song for you, a song in praise
of your nose, breathing us in, a song for your eyes as they close
to contemplate this offering more tempting than the wafer in church.
No, this is not a song for us, flying from islands where the peasant
stain of the platano says: This is who I am. This is a song for you,
a song in praise of your hands, lifting us slowly on the fork as if
to savor the delicacy of aristocrats, a song of delight in your delight.
We live to be useful, and useful we will be, warming your belly as you
crave one more. We will doe heroes. We will die happy on your lips.
____________________
Martin Espada
Jailbreak of Sparrows
Knopf 2025
Wednesday, June 18, 2025
Tuesday, June 17, 2025
Monday, June 16, 2025
Sunday, June 15, 2025
A CONTINUING EDUCATION ~
Mr. Wells in 2011. When he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, he decided not to undergo treatment. “He accomplished what he set out to do,” a former colleague said.
Photo ~ Tony Cenicola/The New York Times
THOREAU AND THE LANGUAGE OF TREES ~
W A L D E N
THOREAU AND THE LANGUAGE OF TREES
2019
Douglas Brinkley with Henry David Thoreau
Saturday, June 14, 2025
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