Dear Poetry Followers, this one’s for the clock, which gets a starring role this upcoming weekend, from The Most of It.
from My Pet, My Clock / by Mary Ruefle
A clock, on the other hand and against all appearances, is a very poor way to tell time, for all it does is sit there or hang on the wall, and very seldom does it do anything of itself to remind you of time.
Dear Poetry Followers, here’s a fragment from a new book published just this month; it’s from one of our favorite Floridians, and from the book, Rift of Light.
from Complaint / by William Logan
If there are dream houses,
are there undreamed houses
full of the things we desire
or only those we deserve?
For a poet to whom I sent a fan note about twenty years ago, from Heart in a Jar, her new book.
from Dear Life: A Ten-Specimen Cento / by Kathleen McGookey
Whale bones litter the only sky. Fireflies are strung up and dangle by the glass walls.
For another poet we will miss, from poetryfoundation.org: July 28, 1927-September 3, 2017.
from How to Continue / by John Ashbery (1927-2017)
And when it became time to go
they none of them would leave without the other
for they said we are all one here
and if one of us goes the other will not go
and the wind whispered it to the stars
the people all got up to go
and looked back on love
For the new-school-year days are sort of like a colorful, spinning thing, from Poetry, September 2016.
from Carousel / by Jaya Savige
You were lured in a luminous canoesaid to have once ruled a lunar ocean.
For sometimes when the world turns upside down, it’s a blessing, from Poetry, September 2017.
from Future Memories / by Mario Meléndez, translated from the Spanish by Eloisa Amezcua
My sister woke me very early
that morning and told me
‘Get up, you have to come see this
the ocean’s filled with stars’
For ghosts I love, from Poetry, September 2017.
from The ghost / by Dorothea Lasky
I forgot to mention that the wings were gold and green
And the winds were heavy
They held his body
Afloat in air as if in the ocean