Poetry | Reheat, by David Israel Katz
David Israel Katz writes us into spaces that negate sense, and importantly, negate our impulse to try to locate sense.
David Israel Katz writes us into spaces that negate sense, and importantly, negate our impulse to try to locate sense.
Join Michelson, author of Sleeping as Fast as I Can, and Moment Book and Opinion Editor Amy E. Schwartz for a conversation about “how one acts responsibly in a world that is at once beautiful and full of suffering-balanced precariously on the edge of despair and ruin?”
Sachs dropped the masks that had let her speak through the murdered Jews of Europe and wrote from her own position in the world.
“Ethan, it’s far past time you took a class with Faye. I’ve already told her you’ll be there.”
Barbara Goldberg’s poetry has always displayed an insatiable appetite for grief and desire.
How is my desire lost? It pours out of my body.
Some of us are lucky. We can swim in a lake. We can walk on a dirt road.
This week’s announcement that Jewish-American writer Louise Glück has received the Nobel Prize in Literature is cause for celebration during a decidedly difficult season. Glück, who is widely regarded as one of the most gifted lyrical poets of our time, is the first American woman poet ever to have received this honor.
The English word atonement sounds abstract / And kind of Latin, but really it’s just “at one.”
Yesterday someone robbed me, and today, / an afternoon of rain brings a double rainbow.