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Poetry Month 2016: Nicholas Samaras
Bless the Head of Gerald Stern A Maskil I call the Lord to bless his prophets, to remember their words and visions. I call the Lord to bless the head of Gerald Stern, to bless even the sparse and numbered hairs of his head, to keep him swinging into feisty age. Oh, bless Gerald Stern for all he gives. The Bible may have killed all its prophets, but not this one. You don’t touch this one. Lord, I call you to bless the head of Gerald Stern. Let him be.Read More
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Poetry Month 2016: Gerald Stern
Thinking About Shelley Arm over arm I swam out into the rain, across from the cedars and the rickety conveyor. I had the quarry all to myself again, even the path down to the muddy bank. Every poet in the world was dead but mt. Yeats was dead, Victor Hugo was dead, Cavity was dead—with every kick I shot a jet of water into the air—you could see me coming a mile away, my shoulders rolling the way my father’s did.Read More
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It’s Academic
Over at his Cosmopoetica blog, Chris quotes Stephen Dunn on John Ashbery: “Poets who defy making sense and do it deliberately and often brilliantly (as Ashbery can) are making a kind of sense, and may be extending the range of what poetry can do, though they ensure that poetry’s audience will be small and chiefly academic: i.e., composed of people inclined to equate a puzzle with that which is meaningful.” This spurred me to respond in the blog’s comment stream, but I since my reply ended up to be rather lengthy and maybe useful to Perpetual Birders, I’m repeating it…Read More