Cinderella By Anne Sexton

[okapi-4evr.livejournal.com]

You always read about it:
the plumber with the twelve children
who wins the Irish Sweepstakes.
From toilets to riches.
That story.
( READ MORE )

Mr. Eliot, Donald Hall

[moireach.livejournal.com]

Mr. Eliot
Donald Hall

           Mr. Eliot at sixty-
three--Nobel Laureate and Czar--
           kindly suggested
that I drop by his office at Faber's
           in London on my way
to Oxford. In dazed preparation,
           I daydreamed agendas
for our conversation. At his desk,
           the old poet spoke
quietly of "the poetic drama,"
           and "our literary
generations," as if I had one.
           After an hour, he scraped
his chair back. I leapt up, and he leaned
           in the doorway
to improvise a parting word. "Let me see,"
           he said. "Forty years
ago I went from Harvard to Oxford,
           now you from Harvard
to Oxford. What advice may I give you?"
           He paused the precise
comedian's millisecond as I
           reflected on the moment,
and then with his exact lilting
           English melody inquired:
"Have you any long underwear?"


I'd love to read some of Hall's baseball poetry, if anyone feels like posting any!

"Rainbird in the Annex" by Desi Di Nardo

[sfllaw.livejournal.com]

I make my way to MacEwen's salient red door
to catch some remnants of her
a faint scent lifting into old familiar skin
her unbendable pronounced lightness absorbed by sky
deliquescent words lost to the sun
her cordless poetry smothered by wind
I float on
forgetting why I came and
become caught in Atwood's wide-brimmed hat
I nestle in
and burrow seeds
surrounded by other flight