All posts tagged “other people’s poetry

comment 0

‘Transformed Creature’ by Liu Xia

Translated from the Chinese by Ming Di and Jennifer Stern You have a strange pet— one eye is a cat’s, the other a sheep’s. Yet, it won’t socialize with felines, will attack any flock of sheep. On moonlit nights, it wanders on roofs. When you’re… Read More

comment 1

‘Leadbelly Gives an Autograph’ by Amiri Baraka

Pat your foot and turn the corner. Nat Turner, dying wood of the church. Our lot is vacant. Bring the twisted myth of speech. The boards brown and falling away. The metal bannisters cheap and rattly. Clean new Sundays. We thought it possible to enter… Read More

comment 0

“Aubade Sung at Laetare a Year Ago” by Guillaume Apollinaire

It’s spring come out Esther you should Take a walk in the pretty woods The hens are clucking in the yard Dawn’s pink folds are shooting skyward And love is coming to steal your heart Mars and Venus have come back anew They give each… Read More

comment 0

Other People’s Poetry: “A Litany for Survival” Audre Lorde

  For those of us who live at the shoreline standing upon the constant edges of decision crucial and alone for those of us who cannot indulge the passing dreams of choice who love in doorways coming and going in the hours between dawns looking… Read More

comment 0

John Ashbery, 1927-2017

“Fear of Death” by John Ashbery What is it now with me And is it as I have become? Is there no state free from the boundry lines Of before and after? The window is open today And the air pours in with piano notes… Read More

comment 0

“Seven Aphorisms” by Alda Merini

I am a furious little bee. ◊ To mistake shit for chocolate is the privilege of the overeducated. ◊ Every man is a friend to his own pathology. ◊ I never speak when I am not turned on. ◊ The gun I point at my… Read More

comment 0

“Mocha Panties” by Arielle Greenberg

You have your skinny pants that you never wear but that are the barometer. You have your fat pants that you wear more than you need to. You have your period pants that are dark and thick and forgiving and comforting. You have your period… Read More

comment 0

“The Sausage Master of Minsk” by August Kleinzahler

I was sausage master of Minsk; young girls brought parsley to my shop and watched as I ground coriander, garlic and calves’ hearts. At harvest time they’d come with sheaves: hags in babushkas, girls plump as quail, wrapped in bright tunics, switching the flanks of… Read More

comment 0

“What Rings But Can’t Be Answered” by Rebecca Lindenberg

You are beautiful as a telephone, colors of bone, rocket ship, and cocktail lounge— Hmm, says the neon sign, starting an unfinishable thought. Where do we go from here? I’m a balloon, each minute you don’t call is a breath you blow into me. I… Read More