Night Owls Night Owls
Addicts of introspection Inmates of inner prisons Drawn and quartered Between body and soul Eyeballing time and eternity Making burglar tools Out of your brief exultations To pick the lock of their mystery Scribblers of briefs and writs Against a dissembling God Mad dogs of mystic love On your way to the pound Fellow sufferers, wretches like me And you pretty ladies too Each nailed to their own cross Let’s get some sleep if we can.
May 12, 2015 / Books & the Arts / Charles Simic
Inside Out Inside Out
With its new building, the Whitney Museum is now the best place to see modern and contemporary art in New York City.
May 6, 2015 / Books & the Arts / Barry Schwabsky
Damage Damage
In our new Gilded Age, the worst are not only full of passionate conviction. They are also damnably clever.
May 6, 2015 / Books & the Arts / George Scialabba
Crash-and-a-Half Crash-and-a-Half
Mourn the poem or porn locked inside or fried, the white scrambled pre-word, impulses so electric they’re post-, just the paths, the pulse. The embarrassment of backup forgotten, Alzheimer put on like a coat you paid a lot for, months owed to a machine. Here— take this, my life in numbered bundles. Don’t forget. Such blackness arrives always sudden and sad but peaceful, not even an accident this time. And you, half-brained, mea culpa the air where the data hadn’t risen to cloud height, so suitable for burial, disremembered, dismembered.
May 6, 2015 / Books & the Arts / Terese Svoboda
Critical Agents Critical Agents
How J. Edgar Hoover’s paranoid view of literature led him to target African-American writers.
May 6, 2015 / Books & the Arts / Peter C. Baker
Demon Demon
“Good news,” said the doctor, “it’s a demon.” I asked for its name: was it No One? Was it Superego? He said it wasn’t those but he couldn’t guess the name. “Who knows,” he said, “It mightn’t even be a demon. It’s what we call a ‘diagnosis by elimination.’” Explaining he couldn’t operate, the doctor said let’s go ahead and medicate the hell out of it, make it sleepy. I named him “Demon” after his identity. I put him to sleep twice a day, one short one long; three times a week he did sport; he grew to six foot two; I said he was good; I went to the door of his room and left food.
May 6, 2015 / Books & the Arts / Kathryn Maris
Financial Pop Financial Pop
Money is sitting around in its sweatpants listlessly spooning peanut butter out of a jar.
May 6, 2015 / Books & the Arts / Joshua Clover
Power and Piety Power and Piety
Is the promotion of violence inherent to any religion?
Apr 29, 2015 / Books & the Arts / David Nirenberg
His Own Çukurova His Own Çukurova
Orhan Pamuk might be Turkey’s most-talked-about author, but Yaşar Kemal remains its most loved.
Apr 29, 2015 / Books & the Arts / Piotr Zalewski
Notes on Kampf Notes on Kampf
Is the well-being of the cultural middle class the key to American creativity?
Apr 29, 2015 / Books & the Arts / Eugenia Williamson