
I always think that a poem “off the page” becomes an “act” of language rather than a poem, a thing made out of words.
Ashbery’s translation is the best we have in English so far.
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.
[What do animals dream?]
[In a Familiar City]
[Blue Note]
[Known Quantity]
[Love-Busker]
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