Casual Opulence Casual Opulence
Denise Levertov’s Collected Poems.
Jan 15, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Adam Plunkett
This Week in ‘Nation’ History: The Passion of Amiri Baraka This Week in ‘Nation’ History: The Passion of Amiri Baraka
We published some of his earliest poems as well as his great 1964 essay on Sonny Liston vs. Cassius Clay.
Jan 11, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Katrina vanden Heuvel
Infamy or Urn? Infamy or Urn?
How was Emily Dickinson able to be frugal and fruitful in her art?
Jan 7, 2014 / Books & the Arts / Ange Mlinko
Shelf Life Shelf Life
Denise Levertov’s poetic communion with the world.
Oct 22, 2013 / Books & the Arts / Ange Mlinko
Demon and Craftsman: On D.H. Lawrence Demon and Craftsman: On D.H. Lawrence
The process of discovery, not their profundities as such, is what makes Lawrence’s poems so gripping.
Oct 1, 2013 / Books & the Arts / James Longenbach
Remembering Seamus Heaney Remembering Seamus Heaney
The contrarian poet refused to toe any party line.
Sep 4, 2013 / Books & the Arts / Margaret Spillane
Unsparing Truths: On Lucille Clifton Unsparing Truths: On Lucille Clifton
A poet’s reckonings with suffering and indifference.
Jun 19, 2013 / Books & the Arts / Jordan Davis
Deliriums and Descents Deliriums and Descents
In Metaphysical Dog, a poet continues his unending, obsessive arguments with himself.
May 15, 2013 / Books & the Arts / Robert Boyers
Shelf Life Shelf Life
Paul Hoover’s second edition of Postmodern American Poetry: A Norton Anthology.
Mar 27, 2013 / Books & the Arts / Ange Mlinko
Neighborhood Neighborhood
Our brick houses had one floor, storm windows to install in October, heavy brass doorknockers, screened-in patios, lawn jockeys, and front porches with wrought iron railings. The rusty bicycles flopped on the driveways, the smell of peat moss in wheelbarrows, the hum of fans from Sears Roebuck, sidewalks turning the color of grocery bags when wet. The luck of a clover with one appended leaf. We had board games like Monopoly shared by three families, the little green hotels disappearing just like the old market and the Bargain Center. The braided oaks with crooked tree houses, the burnt leaves, black fish swimming in air. And on an unseasonably sunny day in late October, I found my mother's floral umbrella and went strolling into the breeze under its spinning canopy, sucking a lemon.
Mar 20, 2013 / Books & the Arts / Judith Harris