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Getting a case of the Mondays- delivered

0 Comments April 8, 2015

One of the most common-sense ideas for saving money is this: make your own meals and take them with you. Restaurants, coffee shops, and vending machines all charge a hefty markup on food, for both the service and the convenience. These temptations are plentiful around my office, but oddly, it’s not my appetite that leads […]

Philip Larkin | Going, Going

0 Comments March 12, 2015

GOING, GOING by Philip Larkin January 1972, from High Windows I thought it would last my time – The sense that, beyond the town, There would always be fields and farms, Where the village louts could climb Such trees as were not cut down; I knew there’d be false alarms In the papers about old […]

On Poetry

0 Comments March 9, 2015

I wish our clever young poets would remember my homely definitions of prose and poetry; that is, prose,—words in their best order; poetry,—the best words in their best order. –Samuel Taylor Coleridge So many people, many of whom enjoy other forms of the arts, are quick to declare, “I hate poetry.” I suspect that what […]

A thirty-year weekend

0 Comments November 25, 2014

I have been alone in Paris, alone in Vienna, alone in London, and all in all, it is very much like being  alone in Green Town, Illinois. It is, in essence, being alone. Oh, you have plenty of time to think, improve your manners, sharpen your conversations. But I sometimes think I could easily trade […]

William Butler Yeats | The White Birds

0 Comments November 13, 2014

The White Birds William Butler Yeats View image | gettyimages.com I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea! We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee; And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the […]

Margaret Atwood | Morning in the Burned House

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Morning in the Burned House Margaret Atwood View image | gettyimages.com In the burned house I am eating breakfast. You understand: there is no house, there is no breakfast, yet here I am. The spoon which was melted scrapes against the bowl which was melted also. No one else is around. Where have they gone […]

Nor ought a genius less than his that writ Attempt translation

0 Comments November 4, 2014

To Sir Richard Fanshaw, Upon His Translation Of ‘Pastor Fido’ Sir John Denham (1615-1669) Such is our pride, our folly, or our fate, That few but such as cannot write, translate. But what in them is want of art or voice, In thee is either modesty or choice. While this great piece, restored by thee, […]

What We Have Been Makes Us What We Are

0 Comments October 30, 2014

Our deeds still travel with us from afar, and what we have been makes us what we are. –George Eliot, Middlemarch I carried an undeveloped roll of film with me, through moves to no less than 11 houses and apartments, for at least 12 years. I had shot it with a cheap hand-me-down Vivitar camera, […]

Derek Walcott | Love After Love

0 Comments October 2, 2014

Love After Love Derek Walcott The time will come when, with elation, you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror, and each will smile at the other’s welcome, and say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your […]

Anne Morrow Lindbergh | The first days of grief are not the worst…

0 Comments September 17, 2014

Contrary to the general assumption, the first days of grief are not the worst. The immediate reaction is usually shock and numbing disbelief. One has undergone an amputation. After shock comes acute early grief which is a kind of “condensed presence” — almost a form of possession. One still feels the lost limb down to […]