i like poetry 

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P.K. PAGE: A BACKWARD JOURNEY

When I was a child of say, seven, I still had serious attention to give to everyday objects. The Dutch Cleanser- which was the kind my mother bought- in those days came in a round container of yellow cardboard around which ran the very busy Dutch Cleanser woman her face hidden behind her bonnet holding a yellow Dutch Cleanser can on which a smaller Dutch Cleanser woman was holding a smaller Dutch...

Dec 20th

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RACTER: UNTITLED

At all events my own essays and dissertations about love and its endless pain and perpetual pleasure will be known and understood by all of you who read this and talk or sing or chant about it to your worried friends or nervous enemies. Love is the question and the subject of this essay. We will commence with a question: does steak love lettuce? This question is implacably hard and...

Dec 7th

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PATRICK LANE: THE MACARONI SONG

I remember macaroni, the end of the month, the last week when there was so little. I made up a song for the children. The Macaroni Song! Around the table we would go, laughing and singing. Macaroni, Macaroni! I can’t make the song work now on the page, just remember, we laughed so hard. My wife stood over the grey metal where the macaroni boiled. She never sang the song. It was always six...

Dec 5th

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PETE WINSLOW: THE DADA SCARECROW

Two crossed sticks in a field This is the dada scarecrow The crows gather around to wonder at it No straw no old clothes No floppy hat like scarecrows wear Just two crossed sticks in a field And a real man suspended naked From its arms.

Dec 3rd