APAD 10: Poetry, by Marianne Moore

Poetry I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle. Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one discovers that there is in it after all, a place for the genuine. Hands that can grasp, eyes that can dilate, hair that can rise if it must, these things […]

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Read To Me – Day Twenty-Eight

Wonder as Wander, Sharon Olds At dusk, on those evenings she does not go out, my mother potters around her house. Her daily helpers are gone, there is no one there, no one to tell what to do, she wanders, sometimes she talks to herself, fondly scolding, sometimes she suddenly throws out her arms and […]

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Read To Me – Day Twenty-Seven

Waking from Sleep, by Robert Bly Inside the veins there are navies setting forth, Tiny explosions at the waterlines, And seagulls weaving in the wind of the salty blood. It is the morning. The country has slept the whole winter. Window seats were covered with fur skins, the yard was full Of stiff dogs, and […]

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Read To Me – Day Twenty

Reluctance, by Robert Frost   Out through the fields and the woods And over the walls I have wended; I have climbed the hills of view And looked at the world, and descended; I have come by the highway home, And lo, it is ended.   The leaves are all dead on the ground, Save […]

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Read To Me – Day Eighteen

Proverbs from Purgatory, by Lloyd Schwartz It was déjà vu all over again. I know this town like the back of my head. People who live in glass houses are worth two in the bush. One hand scratches the other. A friend in need is worth two in the bush. A bird in the hand […]

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Read To Me – Day Fourteen

A Lullaby, by Amy Miller Sleep now. The city you were building in your head, its shouting and conveyances, its strikers and unhelpful signs, its cops with their stern citations, rest. Rest the piteous call from your sister and the words you boiled in the pot all day. Somewhere deer fatten in a sudden thaw. […]

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