April 23, 2013
America, I would like to get closer to you, butyou are the unconscious patient; one hundred internsbicker this morning above your bed. Yesterday,I read for no reason an essay written a decade agoon game theory & economics. Apparently, the problemwith accurate predictions is that sometimes peoplesimply don’t make the rational choice. Illness & sleepare weary metaphors. The poor, who are now homeless,displaced by the storm, rest their heads tonightin luxury beachfront hotel rooms. All I want,one woman says, is my old kitchen where I could cooka hot meal for my kids.
April 03, 2013
We thought we wanted something cuddly,or at the very least, transparent.But everything has a bit of murk about itthese days, especially at this time of year.The box Carol is standing catty-corner tomay contain an antidote to your particular disease,o
April 02, 2013
My son’s in his Watch This years. “Watch this!” He throwsopen the screen door, races through the kitchen, returns in a pant. “See that?” Although I’m watching,I don’t.
April 01, 2013
My dentist tells me about his dying white ash trees growing near the power lines.The blight that pulls apart the roots, telling us we aren’t getting any younger.The tooth, he says, has its own widening rings; each line not age b
March 21, 2013
Against a white wall someone’s hair was a treetop, the body,the trunk of a tree.
A New Head
February 18, 2009
Tyrannosaurus Rex Versus the Corduroy Kid By Simon Armitage (Knopf, 80 pp., $25) THE ENGLISH POET Simon Armitage, born in the north of England in 1963, took degrees in two fields: geography—reflected in his ecological poems—and psychology—visible in his poems of ordinary life. He worked for six years as a Probation Officer, following in his father’s footsteps, and then began to earn his living as a freelance writer. Armitage’s poems, funny and savage, reveal unlovely aspects of modern life, but they also glitter with comedy.