Dictatorial Decree

Already the sun slips, filches off at a sneaking speed. The despot rising declares a natural state of emergency. The pompous papa prays on the instant for a sum of leniency. Alas, mere poet, see? The sun protracts your high-pitched misery. Tonight a summer full moon calls a ball of lunacy. The sun dictates the…

Spring Waltz

The local nurseries and flower markets are loaded with starts, but I can feel the pink of the hard orange rose hips still sleeping, snoring in thorns, and hear the tiny golden broach just touching the iridescent crimson of the humming-bird’s throat. Spring came yellowing in a green coach, wavy red-orange hair billowing out the…

A Disambiguation of Living Alone

“Why are so many Americans living by themselves?” Nathan Heller asks in “The Disconnect” (New Yorker, April 16, 2012). “Today,” Heller says, “half of U.S. residents are single, and a third of all households have one occupant.” We’re in the world of the sociologist, but while this issue’s “Table of Contents,” titled “Journeys,” promises “How…

On Universe: A Conversation Between Thoreau and Bucky

Thoreau: “What distant and different beings in the various mansions of the universe are contemplating the same one at the same moment!” Fuller: “Man seems unique as the comprehensive comprehender and co-ordinator of local universe affairs.” Thoreau: “Probably I should not consciously and deliberately forsake my particular calling to do the good which society demands…

Walden: From “The Pond in Winter” to “Spring”

In Samuel Beckett’s chapter of Our Exagmination Round His Factification For Incamination of Work in Progress, twelve essays looking at Joyce’s Finnegans Wake (reissued New Directions Paperbook 331, 1972), titled “Dante… Bruno. Vico.. Joyce,” Beckett says, “Words have their progressions as well as social phases. ‘Forest-cabin-village-city-academy’ is one rough progression…And every word expands with psychological…