poems from a moravian parking lot



My friend Michael Martin has just published a book of poetry, and I would like to recommend it to anyone in need of medication or other form of reorientation. I won’t quote from a poem but will instead speak of titles. The first poem in the collection is called

On The Eve Of Her Retirement, On A Cross-Atlantic Flight, A United Airlines Stewardess Picks Up The Microphone And Says Goodbye

Then comes

Public Service Announcement From Last Night’s Dream

followed by

Car Wreck Outside The Dinner Party

And so on. It’s beautiful stuff, especially if you are open for redefinitions of beauty. And you can find it: here.

In Ireland, Chasing Yeats



I will arise and go now…

Surprisingly often, when I get up from a chair to leave a room, those six melodramatic words will unfurl in my mind. Somehow William Butler Yeats’s poem “The Lake Isle of Innisfree,” which, like millions of other people, I first read in college, stays rooted in me:

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree…

And I’m off, not to the dentist or the shopping mall but, mentally, striding emerald slopes, making for a place of myth…

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