Monday, January 31, 2011

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Connie Wanek

Click to enlarge.



From NOR spring 2010.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Jane Kenyon

Otherwise

I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.

At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.

From 100 Essential Modern Poems By Women.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Richard Brautigan

4 / The Shadow Of
Seven Years’ Bad Luck


A face concocted from leftovers of other faces
needs a mirror put together from pieces of
broken mirrors.


From Loading Mercury With a Pitchfork.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Friday, January 14, 2011

Maya Angelou

Click to enlarge.


Monday, January 10, 2011

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Friday, January 7, 2011

Li-Young Lee

Click to enlarge.



From The Sun.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Charles Bukowski

hell is a lonely place

he was 65, his wife was 66, had
Alzheimer's disease.

he had cancer of the
mouth.
there were
operations, radiation
treatments
which decayed the bones in his
jaw
which then had to be
wired.

daily he put his wife in
rubber diapers
like a
baby.

unable to drive in his
condition
he had to take a taxi to
the medical
center,
had difficulty speaking,
had to
write the directions
down.

on his last visit
they informed him
there would be another
operation: a bit more
left
cheek and a bit more
tongue.

when he returned
he changed his wife's
diapers
put on the tv
dinners, watched the
evening news
then went to the bedroom, got the
gun, put it to her
temple, fired.

she fell to the
left, he sat upon the
couch
put the gun into his
mouth, pulled the
trigger.

the shots didn't arouse
the neighbors.

later
the burning tv dinners
did.

somebody arrived, pushed
the door open, saw
it.

soon
the police arrived and
went through their
routine, found
some items:

a closed savings
account and
a checkbook with a
balance of
$1.14

suicide, they
deduced.

in three weeks
there were two
new tenants:
a computer engineer
named
Ross
and his wife
Anatana
who studied
ballet.

they looked like another
upwardly mobile
pair.

From Septuagenerian Stew.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Monday, January 3, 2011

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Saturday, January 1, 2011