Author: Pierre Joris

From Clayton Eshleman, this morning, this poem: FOR GUSTAF SOBIN Radiating in my shroudI governed my matrixwandering Egyptian anima mundi,sensing in these parent powersa deeper larval plait. What was it to see then?As if...

from Girandole it’s how thescarf falls, andthe softbraided silverof the shoes… their signs!that sky! thenew un-declined night!whisper chases whisper, edgeits edges,as an arm swimstoward thecastbrass palmleavesof the light. * break, butwhere; shatter, awave, stillswelling,...

On Wednesday, in the church of the German town of Halberstadt, at an exactly predetermined moment moment, the officials pulled two pipes out of the organ — and the mode of the music changed....

And this further comment by Paul Celan: Leave the poem its darkness; maybe — maybe! — it will give, when the excessive brightness, which the exact sciences today already know how to put before...

Two days ago, Ron Silliman noted on his blog, in a piece on a poem by Geoffrey Brock: While there is nothing here that could be called opaque, as such, the scandal of opacity...

4 July is my father’s death day — 13 years ago — and now also that of Lorenzo Thomas, a wonderful poet, & a sweet & lovely man with a sharp intelleto. Here is...

Here, on the day before the big yucky displays of patriotic schmalz, are the ten most harmful books, according to the deep right wing — should you not have read one or the other...

This morning, for the sheer pleasure of it, I translated two pages by the Tunisian writer Abdelwahab Meddeb, taken from his 1886 book Phantasia, & representing the beginning of a longer meditation on language,...

The poet Philippe Jaccottet turns 80 today. Born in Western Switzerland, he has lived in the town of Grignan in Southern France for close to 50 years now. Very productive bothas poet and prose...

So we went out late last night to pay homage to the final evening in one of Albany’s oldest watering holes, the Palais Royale — there used to be poetry readings here in the...