Even when Death inhabits a poem, he does not own it. He is a squatter. In fact, Death owns nothing. – Todd Moore
Connecting It’s a dry day wrapped a quivering at edges a barely being, fast holding shallow breath day; quarks fidgeting streaming through fields concocting. Brief me a few lines a well-tempered brief wrap me in ideas and confluence; be there Continue reading Connecting and Two other new poems by Linda Stevenson
Commentary Ignorance heaves into the morning a breakwater where once placid waves pile up frothing with palaver and corrupted fish I’ve been wondering how to rip free reaching conclusions at the bottom of the wash letting them go to float Continue reading Commentary & Two other new poems by Linda Stevenson
A Place If I wax obtuse I might get a place or if I make reference to philosophy/science/ intersection it may impress them; but can they fly… kissing the wind with meticulous phrasing Saxon Gaelic Roman Austral Bird all of Continue reading A Place by Linda Stevenson
Lies Susan Sontag said: ordinary language is an accretion of lies. I say: most poetry is ordinary language and is therefore also an accretion of lies. What I search for: extraordinary phrases telling it, expounding ordinary truths, revealing diamonds. Linda Continue reading Lies by Linda Stevenson
Saving Words This morning I seek the incomparable Anne Sexton; no poems but hers will echo today, will own the audacity to present straight up as rapturous patterns, insanities to be adored. She reads (on video) from home, her own Continue reading Saving Words by Linda Stevenson
On Reading the News I don’t believe you. See how my world weariness testifies, sighing, muttering. Being an old sceptic, I burrow, dig, kick up more dirt; like a hoary wombat, I claw towards a credible space for refuge, hide Continue reading On Reading The News & 2 other new poems by Linda Stevenson
Hey, See Hey, puppet masters, see me…? trifling human streak of human interference in your inhumanity, a bouncing back and sideways visual echo in the dense presidential mountains, a slick of volatile afloat on your paraphernalia… Hey, your eyes seem Continue reading Hey, See by Linda Stevenson
No Lack I wanted everything didn’t you love, learning affection from animals god knowledge of both parts, myths becoming shy craft, mountains and mines for silver, fire and not least a future of new bread, awards in our city’s temples, Continue reading No Lack by Linda Stevenson
Politics for a Simple Mind I try to understand stuffing worn in formation inside worn skull even at this late episode is a fourth reich immanent or in full flower second coming squared I would have grasped math if taught Continue reading Politics for a Simple Mind by Linda Stevenson
Spies You left me these… suggestions, a generic trait, hints about the London Underground, questionable lines back to back and winding, last century, a formal photograph highlighting royalty. Yet nothing of the other kind, no domesticity, habitual sex or mutual Continue reading Spies by Linda Stevenson