Maybe someday I'll write something about it all, but in the meantime, there's always Billy Collins.
And Marvin Bell ("When the dead man throws up, he thinks he sees his inner life"), and Kay Ryan, and Anne Carson and Marie Howe ("This is what you have been waiting for, he used to say to me") and Philip Larkin and...and...well, and poetry, my dear.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
And outside the cabin, falling leaves.
Labels:
Anne Carson,
Billy Collins,
Death,
Kay Ryan,
Marie Howe,
Marvin Bell,
Philip Larkin
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