State Fair

Suppose we crown our symphony, Hecate’s Symphony—‘On the Genuine In Art’—with some Old growth sour apples, grandma Style. Suppose we pronounce the day dead At dawn, kaput, finis, finished. Rain all day, my friends, a wash out. Suppose we market some saliva soap, —Eh?—sell it as ‘The French Kiss’, Salubrious Soft Skin—and then, Suppose weContinue reading “State Fair”

Too Much Music

1. I don’t know, you just can’t beat a good parade— And John Philip Sousa, either.  Either The Colonel Bogey March, or Stars and Stripes Forever—or—do both! A row of drums, A row of trumpets, fifes and flutes, my fav The glockenspiel, the cymbals, saxophones, Sousaphones, of course. Then—then—the Mayor’s car, The fire department, policeContinue reading “Too Much Music”

Bleak House

At first it seems like a flouting of the phony. A magician steps on stage, Mysterioso the Magnificent, set to amaze us with prestidigitation and conjugation, so the sign says—he’s even got his black cape on, he twirls an elongated mustache, bows to the audience, speaks with a wicked smile: ‘Watch me pull a rabbitContinue reading “Bleak House”

For Valentines’ Day this Year…

…we will discuss a perennial question: What makes a poem a love poem? What are the qualifications that push your ordinary, quotidian poem into the realm of the romantic? That’s going to be my present this year. Everybody okay here? It’s either that or I buy another Whitman’s Sampler…and you know where that takes us.Continue reading “For Valentines’ Day this Year…”

The World as Meditation

The Sun, on the Horizon… Wallace Stevens was fond of writing and speculating—and (if I may) poetizing and philosophizing—about ‘the poem’. Inscribing a copy of his Collected Poems to one of Holly Stevens’ English professors, he wrote: When I speak of the poem, in this book, I mean not merely a literary form, but theContinue reading “The World as Meditation”