A loss to the world – and the world of Catholic letters…
As for me
I have no mind
to lose anymore, I am through
with all that–
the sky is my mind
today. (And
it always is
and always was
today.) Blue,
her color
sorrowing over us…
Does it flow out of or into us, seeing?
Unseen rays of perception the face beams
at things, or
face on which things shine!
I am so glad
that I no longer know,
no longer
care.
And one more thing:
the future?
Never
been there.
-Franz Wright
A nod to Kierkegaard and Walker Percy: existentialist tomfoolery, political satire, literary homage, word mongering, a year-round summer reading club, Dylanesque music bits, apocalyptic marianism, poetry, fiction, meta-porn, a prisoner work-release program.
Søren Kierkegaard
Walker Percy
Bob Dylan
Literature & History
Letters from an American
Beau of the Fifth Column
This American Life
The Writer’s Almanac
San Diego Reader
The Stranger
The Inlander
Adoremus
Charlotte was Both
The Onion
From Empty Hands
Ellen Finnigan
America
Commonweal
First Things
National Review
The New Republic
All Manner of Thing
Gerasene Writers Conference
Scrutinies
DarwinCatholic
Catholic and Enjoying It
Bad Catholic
Universalis
Is My Phylactery Showing?
Quotidian Quintilian
En pocas palabras
William Wilson, Guitarist Extraordinaire
Signposts in a Strange Land
Ben Hatke
Daniel Mitsui
Dappled Things
The Fine Delight
Gene Luen Yang
Wiseblood Books
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Great poem and a great poet. I read him cover to cover just a few years ago, and would have enjoyed reading his stuff into that nonexistent future. I don’t know of any poet who fought harder for that peace.
Thanks JOB.
How did you ever resist posting the caption that accompanies that photo?
“Mr. Wright with his father, James Wright, also a Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, in 1962 on the poet Robert Bly’s farm in Madison, Minn.”
Poet Dad takes Poet Son to visit Poet Friend on Midwestern Farm. Perhaps you swooned?
A genuine ex-suicide. How is it we don’t talk more about him?
I figured people would figure it out anyway.
Meanwhile, I’m still trying to find St. Paul, Wisconsin, so you can move there and I can take Barbara there and we can pose with our deer rifles…
“Ms. O’Brien with her father, Mr. O’Brien, also a National Book Award-winning poet, in 2015, on the novelist Matthew Lickona’s farm in St. Paul, Wis.”
JOB