You know: I have to give you up again
And I can't.
I am after the lost sign, the single
pledge you graced me with.
And hell is certain
P. K. Page
They in us free our love
make archways of our mouths,
tear off the patent gloves
and atrophy our myths.
P. K. Page
They in us free our love
make archways of our mouths,
tear off the patent gloves
and atrophy our myths.
A lot of swashbucklers out there.
A lot of swashbucklers out there.
it more than death, beauty is feared
more than death, more than they fear death
-William Carlos Williams
(quoted by Cristina Campo in
“The Unforgiveables”)
it more than death, beauty is feared
more than death, more than they fear death
-William Carlos Williams
(quoted by Cristina Campo in
“The Unforgiveables”)
Practicing Bach: Prelude
Jan Zwicky
Everywhere you look
there's beauty and it's rimed
with death
Practicing Bach: Prelude
Jan Zwicky
Everywhere you look
there's beauty and it's rimed
with death
I just read a beautiful poem by Canadian P. K. Page on Rostropovich.
What about you, reader, what's your favorite poem on a composer
I just read a beautiful poem by Canadian P. K. Page on Rostropovich.
What about you, reader, what's your favorite poem on a composer
Tiger Drinking at Forest Pool
Water, moonlight, danger, dream.
Bronze urn, angled on on a tree-root: one
Slash of light, then gone
Tiger Drinking at Forest Pool
Water, moonlight, danger, dream.
Bronze urn, angled on on a tree-root: one
Slash of light, then gone
This one by Canadian poet Jan Zwicky.
Practicing Bach
There is a sound
that is a whole of many parts,
a sorrowless transparency, like luck.
This one by Canadian poet Jan Zwicky.
Practicing Bach
There is a sound
that is a whole of many parts,
a sorrowless transparency, like luck.
When Laura Ingraham confronted Trump about this in the Oval—specifically and correctly noting that the tacky garbage was from Home Depot—he lied to her face and insisted it wasn't.
This one by Canadian poet Jan Zwicky.
Practicing Bach
There is a sound
that is a whole of many parts,
a sorrowless transparency, like luck.
This one by Canadian poet Jan Zwicky.
Practicing Bach
There is a sound
that is a whole of many parts,
a sorrowless transparency, like luck.
What changed?
I thought this letter was incomparable
What changed?
I thought this letter was incomparable
This is already much.
But there is more:
what falls apart is held together
each
atom aligned
This is already much.
But there is more:
what falls apart is held together
each
atom aligned
I just read a beautiful poem by Canadian P. K. Page on Rostropovich.
What about you, reader, what's your favorite poem on a composer
I just read a beautiful poem by Canadian P. K. Page on Rostropovich.
What about you, reader, what's your favorite poem on a composer