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My Pandemic Year in Books
So Many Books, So Little Time I could have sworn that I’d read far fewer books this year than in past years, but it seems not to be so. It must be one of the few benign side effects of the pandemic. Of course, the pandemic has been hard on my writing, poems—at least poems of my kind—seeming fairly pointless amid the waves of infection and death and the tide of fascism rising out of the GOP (the Goosestepping Old Party).Read More
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Poetry Month 2015: Louis Jenkins
THE POET He is young and thin with dark hair and a deep, serious voice. He sips his coffee and says, “I have found that it is a good idea to check the words you use in a dictionary. I keep a list. Here is the word meadow. Since I was a child the word meadow always had connotations of peace and beauty. Once I used meadow in a poem and as a matter of practice I looked the word up. I found that a meadow was a small piece of grassland used to graze animals….Read More