#369: Some Kind of Hymn

(after James Schuyler and for Cresslyn Clay) Moss grows on the roofs of the garage and the woodshed and the weather is shitty, again. This April, it’s unseasonably warm and dry with spells that go on for days of rain and clouds, gray spells. We’re in the middle of one of those. We sit atContinue reading “#369: Some Kind of Hymn”

A Journal of the Plague Year: #17

Most importantly, I will not be able to BE with my seniors in IB English, not even remotely. I won’t see their faces, hear their voices, read their writing, laugh at their good humor, be in awe of their intelligence and kindness. But additionally, I will not be able to formally finish the Hamlet unitContinue reading “A Journal of the Plague Year: #17”

#348: Don’t Do Something

I get it. People shut in want to get things done, they get all ambitious and want to complete the house project, write the great American novel, exercise themselves into hardbodies, record a hit record, paint their master- piece, read 20 great books, write poems every day. The experts tell us to knock that shitContinue reading “#348: Don’t Do Something”

A Journal of the Plague Year: #13

Today is April 1 of the year of our pandemic, 2020, but it is also the first day of National Poetry Month, during which, over the past six years, I have celebrated by writing a poem every day for an entire month. This will be year seven in a poetry writing streak. To the bestContinue reading “A Journal of the Plague Year: #13”