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in possibility

the birthdates of my daughters and me go by sevens: 7, 14, 21 mine’s in the middle Clara’s is today   Do not move Let the wind speak that is paradise. (Ezra Pound, from Canto CXX)   Advertisements

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talkin about Eve’s generation

Robert Pogue Harrison on Eve and “natality,” Hannah Arendt’s term for the “initiation of new beginnings through human action”: Eve was created as a Stepford wife of sorts, with everything provided for her except the prospect of self-fulfillment. The same … Continue reading

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“This writer is writing a sacred text.”

“This writer is writing a sacred text.” The sentence is from Stanley Cavell’s The Senses of Walden. “This writer” is Henry David Thoreau, the “sacred text,” Walden. For Father’s Day this past June, my daughter Charlotte gave me a copy … Continue reading

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An open letter.

To TJ Beitelman, before going with him and two or maybe three other people to Clarksdale, Mississppi, and maybe other places, and maybe to a church service on Sunday morning and maybe not. You asked “where do you live?” When … Continue reading

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On Light. Prolegomenon.

Of course, one need not have eyes to see. The familiar hymn “Amazing Grace” rejoices in the experience of grace even in the life of “a wretch like me.” It’s as though one had been blind; with salvation, one “now … Continue reading

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in which I discuss whether I love Charles Wright, or his poetry, or both, without mentioning any of his poems

Yesterday I came across a very fine review by Laura Kolbe (whose name is new to me) of recently-published poetry collections by Charles Wright and Robert Pinsky. Evoking the image of Yeats’ archetypal spiral, she provides an exquisite description of … Continue reading

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for Clara, on her 24th birthday

A photograph of Clara and Charlotte, from around 2001 (?), by Tom Petras: Lines from the Portuguese poet Vincius de Moraes, translated by Richard Wilbur: Song Never take her away, The daughter whom you gave me, … And who, in … Continue reading

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because you’re my daughter and because it was father’s day and because I…

you wrote me a beautiful note on a beautiful card you gave me lovely funny things you honor me beyond all saying I cherish your gifts because they’re your gifts. And I cherish them as tokens of your constant gift … Continue reading

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a new poem

entities multiplied past all necessity The silence smells of the river and charred oxen. Yesterday I dis- covered severe strangers, misbegotten one became the pleasure of being above the treeline in the grey bouldershade that countenances one’s becoming was divineness … Continue reading

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clara poem

This is a poem Clara wrote when she was sixteen. It was published in her high school’s literary magazine. Hard Head Stare at the naked sun with me again Until we think we’re going blind Because of our burning eyes, … Continue reading

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