In another time, What cannot be seen will define us, and we shall be prompted To say that language is error, and all things are wronged By representation. The self, we shall say, can never be Seen with a disguise, and never be seen without one. — Mark Strand, from “A Suite of Appearances, IV,”… Continue reading Mark Strand
God let me see the future so I would never dwell on the past. — J. Kiss, from “The Soothsayer,” Literary Bohemian (no. 4, April 2009)
A word can rub itself rosy against its cage of context, starting a small fire in the sentence and trapping for a moment the twin scents of now and goodbye. The sexual mimicry always surprises me: the long dive the talky mind makes into the pleasures of its native dark. — Chase Twichell, from “Word… Continue reading Chase Twichell
Sometimes I come here just to be a lost mariner but I am never lost: there are the snowflakes frozen to the porthole of a jewelry store, here is the treasure chest open to a single pearl laid on a velvet slab, there is the plashing of faces in the aisles and the row of… Continue reading Nancy Eimers
Loss was not a skill, not a measure of a life. And yet I still felt I had something to lose. — Haruki Murakami, Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. (Kodansha USA Inc; 1st edition, September 1, 1991) Originally published 1985.
Dove left open by love in a meadow, Dove commanding me not to know where it sank into the almost-night—for you I will learn to play the concertina, to write poems full of hateful jasmine and longing, to keep the dead alive, to sicken at the least separation. Dove, for whose sake I will never… Continue reading Tess Gallagher
There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love. — Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveler’s Wife. (Zola Books, September 22, 2015)