The NS poem.
Adam Kirsch on Daniel Swift's The Bughouse: the Poetry, Politics and Madness of Ezra Pound.
“The day feels infinitely long. We’ve come here / for this.”
"in awe and reverence the awful thing: / they find the black box (Guántanamo red) / among gentians"
A new poem by Janet Sutherland.
"October on Earth / and distinctly autumnal"
"I hurd the storie & I tolde it back, / god-gifted, to spyce up the craic"
“More people love football / than love social justice / but that doesn’t mean football / isn’t brilliant.”
The announcement of Cohen’s death is a reminder of what real grief feels like.
That’s not smog sitting on the lake . . .
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