Madridby Jennifer Lagier Policía wear blue uniforms, twirl submachine guns,form a mandatory reception line leading to the terminalwhere I’m divested of purse and belt, subjected to a full body scan. In the bullet train coach car, passengers sit, two by two.An attendant pushes a squeaky cart down the narrow aisle,dispenses espresso, newspapers, travel advice. GreenContinue reading “Madrid by Jennifer Lagier”
Category Archives: cities
Spain by Major Jackson
Spainby Major Jackson for Mark Strand Beneath canopies of green, unionists marched doggedlyoutside The Embassy. Their din was no matchfor light lancing through leaves of madrone treeslining the Paseo then flashing off glossy black Maybachsskidding round a plaza like a monarch fleeing the paparazzi.Your voice skipped and paused like a pencil.Layers of morning pastries flaked gingerlythen fell, softContinue reading “Spain by Major Jackson”
Iowa City: Early April by Robert Hass
Iowa City: Early Aprilby Robert Hass This morning a cat—bright orange—pawing at the one patch of new grass in the sand-and tanbark-colored leaves. And last night the sapphire of the raccoon’s eyes in the beam of the flashlight.He was climbing a tree beside the house, trying to get onto the porch, I think, for aContinue reading “Iowa City: Early April by Robert Hass”
Things to Do Around Seattle by Gary Snyder
Things to Do Around Seattleby Gary Snyder Hear phone poles hum.Catch garter snakes. Make lizard tails fall off.Biking to Lake Washington, see muddy little fish.Peeling old bark off Madrone to see the clean red new bark.Cleaning fir pitch off your hands.Reading books in the back of the University District goodwill.Swimming in Puget Sound below theContinue reading “Things to Do Around Seattle by Gary Snyder”
Return to Florence by Geoffrey Grigson
Return to Florenceby Geoffrey Grigson A theatre-sky, of navy blue, at night:traffic of the night, it darts, it screams,it is straight swifts of night with lightedeyes: upwards I read on a new building’s Face, Here P.B. Shelley wroteOde to the West Wind. Your poet, no. Normine, yet saw wind as he will or wind,oh, IContinue reading “Return to Florence by Geoffrey Grigson”
[London, my beautiful] by F.S. Flint
[London, my beautiful]by F.S. Flint London, my beautiful,it is not the sunsetnor the pale green skyshimmering through the curtainof the silver birch,nor the quietness;it is not the hoppingof birdsupon the lawn,nor the darknessstealing over all thingsthat moves me. But as the moon creeps slowlyover the treetopsamong the stars,I think of herand the glow her passingshedsContinue reading “[London, my beautiful] by F.S. Flint”
Psalm Above Santa Fe by John Judson
Psalm Above Santa Fe 16 March 1987 by John Judson What is it we come to between mountains, long crests tipped white, dusted on their flanks, while light spreads out before us, pouring in our laps, soft as iris tongues, and the lungs finally filled with a freshness unwilled because unlooked for: sparse grass, rocksContinue reading “Psalm Above Santa Fe by John Judson”
Venice, Unaccompanied by Monica Youn
Venice, Unaccompaniedby Monica Youn Wakingon the train, I thoughtwe were attacked by light:chrome-winged birdshatching from the lagoon. That first daythe buoys were allthat made the harbor bearable:pennies sewn into a hemline.Later I learned to live in it, to walkthrough the alien city—a beekeeper’s habit— with fierce lightclinging to my head and hands.Treated as gently asContinue reading “Venice, Unaccompanied by Monica Youn”
Early Morning in Milwaukee by John Koethe
Early Morning in Milwaukee (excerpt)by John Koethe Is this what I was made for? Is the world that fitsLike what I feel when I wake up each morning? SteamcloudsHovering over the lake, and smoke ascending from ten thousand chimneysAs in a picture on a calendar, in a frieze of ordinary days?Beneath a sky of oatmealContinue reading “Early Morning in Milwaukee by John Koethe”
Belle Isle, 1949 by Philip Levine (Detroit, Michigan, USA)
Belle Isle, 1949by Philip Levine We stripped in the first warm spring nightand ran down into the Detroit Riverto baptize ourselves in the brineof car parts, dead fish, stolen bicycles,melted snow. I remember going underhand in hand with a Polish highschool girlI’d never seen before, and the criesour breath made caught at the same timeonContinue reading “Belle Isle, 1949 by Philip Levine (Detroit, Michigan, USA)”
POETRY and PLACES 