American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry

John Koethe

A sudden [b]reeze sweeps through the vacant lots, scattering leaves
And cellophane, the miscellaneous detritus of a life.
Like scraps of paper carried by the breeze from home
To here, and then a figure walking towards me
Across an open field, coming from the vast distance
Things tend towards, they come at last to me: the quick,
Unmediated thoughts, secure in their final home,
That have their say and stand apart and make no sense.
I’ve spent my life like this. […] Why can’t I say what I mean?

— John Koethe, from “The Long Dissolve,” The Swimmer: Poems (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2016)

Advertisements

One thought on “John Koethe

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s