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My students and I nearly read the entirety of Cleanth Brooks’s The Well Wrought Urn (1947) over the last four weeks. We… READ MORE
Wallace Stevens gives me words to think and feel and speak the sky. Part of my survival strategy thus far… READ MORE
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The Beautiful Changes One wading a Fall meadow finds on all sides The Queen Anne’s Lace lying like lilies On… READ MORE
Recalling War Entrance and exit wounds are silvered clean, The track aches only when the rain reminds. The one-legged man… READ MORE
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I Looked Up from My Writing I looked up from my writing, And gave a start to see, As… READ MORE
My favorite poem, “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” turns 100 this month. I first read T.S. Eliot in… READ MORE
Morning Song Love set you going like a fat gold watch. The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry… READ MORE
William Blake The Lamb READ MORE
A friend and I have begun reading Gil Anidjar’s Blood: A Critique of Christianity (2014). It’s a daunting book, one that almost… READ MORE
from “Preludes” (1910-11) The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o’clock. The burnt-out ends of… READ MORE
Sketching a Present 