A Blog of Seattle Arts & Lectures
American Poetry I imagine my brand-new copy of The Best American Poetry 2021 lying stiff and silent after the apocalypse. I’d like to remain conservative a little longer. save seed for winter. watch...
praise poem i praise my street smarts. i praise the ability to tell right from wrong and knowing when to do the wrong things for the right reasons. i praise my book smarts. i praise my ability ...
the poet this is you on your knees, surreal roses unfurled in a ghastly inversion at your feet. you balled your fists and balled your eyes out while you were patted on the back, like the ancient, qura...
“The Wizard of Bygone Boulevard” by Jo Chick Bygone boulevard was by no means a lively place, considering its inhabitants consisted of geriatric witches and wizards. For most of BygoneR...
Through a deep night shines a spark of hope like a wasp without a stinger like a blinding rip in the needles of the air no one sees this hope or maybe they’re just too tired to care It flickers thro...
Plato once asserted that justice, in the scheme of morality and goodness, ultimately comes down to compromise. We discussed it in class, so it must be true, but tell me, philosopher, if perhaps I coul...
From here I see nothing There is nothing here There is not sky, or soft curling clouds There is no place where the sand becomes sea From here I hear nothing There is not gentle conversation There is n...
At the peak of my anxiety, consumed by emotion, overwhelmed by intrusive thoughts, I’m at a standstill. I don’t know when my home got bigger or I when I simply shrunk, but my house is far ...
every few centuries, when the carp gathered at the base of the 龙门 lóngmén in thunderclouds, riled with legend and youth, we waded into the brinks of the waterfall and waited. that night we would...
“With your pictures you apparently want to arouse in us a feeling of having to swallow rope or drink kerosene.” – Braque to Picasso Maybe it’s as simple as this: Maybe God’s hundredt...