Entries Tagged 'fruit' ↓

Travel Memoirs: Singapore part 2

Walking under a lightly tinted oriental umbrella fit for the hot sun, but also the sudden shower of the tropics, I find myself savoring the sights and smells of exotic Singapore again as I reminiscence. Besides the lush vegetation, olfactory stimuli ex…

Wholesale Treadmill

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Upcoming: The Perfume Inside the Poem

Pleasures - by Denise Levertov - I like to find what’s not found at once, but lies within something of another nature, in repose, distinct. Gull feathers of glass, hidden in white pulp: the bones of squid which I pull out and lay blade by blade on the draining board— tapered as if for swiftness, to pierce the heart, but fragile, substance belying design. Or a fruit, mamey, cased in rough brown peel, the flesh rose-amber, and the seed: the seed a stone of wood, carved and polished, walnut-colored, formed like a brazilnut, but large, large enough to fill the…

Continue reading → Upcoming: The Perfume Inside the Poem

Upcoming: The Perfume Inside the Poem

Pleasures - by Denise Levertov - I like to find what’s not found at once, but lies within something of another nature, in repose, distinct. Gull feathers of glass, hidden in white pulp: the bones of squid which I pull out and lay blade by blade on the …

Continue reading → Upcoming: The Perfume Inside the Poem

The Occasional Pie

The Poet’s Occasional Alternative - by Grace Paley - I was going to write a poem I made a pie instead it took about the same amount of time of course the pie was a final draft a poem would have had some distance to go days and weeks and much crumpled paper the pie already had a talking tumbling audience among small trucks and a fire engine on the kitchen floor everybody will like this pie it will have apples and cranberries dried apricots in it many friends will say why in the world did you make only one…

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The Occasional Pie

The Poet’s Occasional Alternative - by Grace Paley - I was going to write a poem I made a pie instead it took about the same amount of time of course the pie was a final draft a poem would have had some distance to go days and weeks and much crumpled p…

Continue reading → The Occasional Pie