Will you write a poem about Haiti? I think likely not. Why? What of the children, and the dead, the poverty which has ceded way to something...
He was writing on the precision of individual language. How words are not universal, and are really insurmountable gaps between two bodies. ...
She asked me to go to bed Don’t you know we’re better dead? All beneath a sky like lead She touched me, said please. My heart, she moans, is...
