Tagged: anne carson

Poem: Life Sculptor

We don’t author our biographies. We sculpt them, chipping and chiseling, peeling back the onionskin strata accretions of time, calcified history. The layers of remaindered remnants. What’s been piled on previous to our arrival taunts just beyond our reach, like the inscrutable object of desire who can’t and will not ever requite our boundless love....

Poem: Never Lonely

  Now that I’m alone with my thoughts Now that I’m alone, with my thoughts Now that I’m alone. With my thoughts   Nothing has changed from the moment before Nothing has changed from the moment, before Nothing has changed. From the moment before   I was in a crowd acutely aware of my solitude...

Poem: Go On

How do you go on when every morning brings news of the intolerable, the intolerable that we all tolerate? How do you consciously continue the divine comedy, momentarily detouring Dante’s hoary inferno infested with infamy and ferocious flames, braising the bottoms of all who perpetrate the unallowable? How do you smile while the unacceptable must...

Poem: Beautiful World

Sitting on a bench beside a Scottish canal, watching the locks rising and the Lochs glowing he crossed his legs and placed his hands upon worn corduroy wales that had seen much of the civilized world. “It’s a beautiful world,” he said, smiling, an eternal boy peering from behind octogenarian eye-creases.  “It’s a beautiful world....

Poem: Needed

When a refrain becomes a din flooding the eternal internal monologue with variations of “What have I accomplished?” That is when you know the looking-back-on-my-life process has officially begun. A puff of smoke, and then a crack. If you’ll step this way, just over here, I’ll tell you secrets that everyone knows. How charming now...