Images from Yeats’s “The Second Coming” have troubled my sight since the middle of the last decade, when a rough beast began slouching towards Washington. But despite being a cynic at heart, I hope the center might yet hold. Let’s do what we can to help it.
I’ve wanted to use the word “xenolith” in a poem since discovering it several years ago. This felt like the right time.
Dan Albergotti on "Stony Sleep" |
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"Beyond Craft: Six Recent Experiences with Noise"
"Wading into the poem, we become the child just learning to read, working through by touch of ear, testing each piece for a familiar tune. The word 'talk' emerges from 'stalks,' 'rush' from 'brush,' 'ice' from 'voice,' and the pleasurable 'oo oo' from 'too soon.' These emergences do not clarify the poetic scene but embroil us in a second hovering poem: a net that flickers and obscures. Moving headlong with the 'rush lingering from the voice of a drop falling,' I realize too late that I too am 'all in'—awash in noise, unsure where to I’ll land."
viaNEW ENGLAND REVIEW |
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What Sparks Poetry:
Heather Green on Life in Public
"In 'Forgiveness,' Pinsky’s fluid, associative form moves an electron cloud of image, shadow, and fact around a heavy nucleus of a solitary voice wrestling with its own thoughts, ambitions, and ethical questions. The poem steers from Emmanuel Levinas’s lecture 'The forgiving / Of an unforgivable crime' to Pound’s poetics (and Pinsky’s revelation about duration and stress) in a whorl of motion, a record of a dynamic thought process animated, in part, by music." |
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