
If you’d told me that the ultimate line of a wonderful poem could be, simply, “Doctor Wong,” I would’ve looked at you skeptically.
The poetry lesson is that poetry is a practice.
All acts of observation are partial and reveal as much about the observer as the observed.
Alfred Corn’s play gives us an inner portrait of Robert Lowell that is not found in either the biography or the poetry itself.
Formality, in this case, allows Sleigh to achieve a reflexivity and self-awareness without the cloying injections that deliberately remind the reader of the existence of the poet.
[Blue Note]
[Known Quantity]
[Love-Busker]
[Suleiman]
[In His Tree]
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