Recently added articles from TriQuarterly:
The Empress of In-Between: A Portrait of Louise Nevelson.(Critical essay)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> She was a bird of rare plumage. Edward Albee My total conscious search in life has been for a new seeing, a new image, a new insight. This search not only includes the object, but the in-between places, the dawns and dusks, ...
Sob-Ballads.(Critical essay)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> The grip of modernism relaxed in the late-1950s, when the Beats and then the Confessional poets recovered the pleasures of directly expressed feeling in poetry--warm feeling that a quarter-century earlier might have embarrassed Pound, Eliot, or Auden, say. But if one ...
Purity: It's Such a Filthy Word.(Essay)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> Look up <Italic>purity</Italic> in an Internet search engine, and you're likely to be brought to popular questionnaires that purportedly determine one's level of incorruption. One purity test option begins with "had a date" and ends with "committed bestiality." Another ...
Bilbao.(Critical essay)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> "This is not narrative." Richard Serra on "The Matter of Time" </Preformatted> In a museum on the north coast of Spain you placed eight sculptures the size of fallen helicopters, made of sheets of Cor-ten steel. If whales weren't ...
Impedimenta.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> The hackberry blackens in the March rain. The but oak in the backyard waits-- we are all out of season, unkind in our distrait. So say you, spring. So you said one evening, cool, damp as this, but disguised by veils of Spanish moss, soaked and ...
City.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> First morning, I woke to the lying-downness of myself: my alabaster arm and thigh more silken rampart, my curves their hills, and in my dew-wet bed of grass, I knew that my geography would become terrain, and from terrain sweet mappable streets ....
By a Pond on a Muggy Evening.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> First came the <Italic>quaink</Italic> of a distant cowbell, then the <Italic>quonk</Italic> of a plucked banjo string. A cheep, a drowsy birdlike chirp, the <Italic>basso profundo</Italic> of a <Italic>jug-o-rum</Italic> -- frogs of the ...
Death Takes a Holiday.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> Battleships melted down into clouds: first the empire died, then the shipbuilding, but cloud formations of gun-metal gray towered over the sea that was England in June. A scarecrow treaded water instead of barley, gulls set sail across a cricket ...
Persephone on the Way to Hell.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> Over there, beside the road-- Is that the letter I should have left you, Mother? The shade of a scarecrow waves a blank page as big as he is, but too late. Blond waves of winter wheat roll up to the knees he'll never have, tempting his shirt to ...
Late to the Games.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> We slip along the lip of the ditch and every time we come to someone sitting, waiting for the games, I grab chain link with one hand, swing across them, grab the fence again, inch down to the next spectator, and do it all again. I hate that ...
The Circus.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> Yes, the girl sneezing pink froth and the woman fisting her eyes each time another oldie crackles from the ceiling look worse than I do. See them. And find, please, a dentist for the man clutching two molars in a bloody paper towel. And a CPA or ...
The Unused Room.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> Through the sealed window, cars sounded like the sea, the watery rote of arrival and recession. When the phone rang, we stared. Who? What? Did we have towels? "Towels! Towels!" we laughed, with ludicrous relief. The second time it rang, a women ...
Abandoning the Play.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> They strode left and I slid out after their disruption, and the woman's face, I saw, was red--tears flicked angrily away. The man, silent, glowered, and then, heavily, was gone. Her tears, now unhampered, streamed down her face and long white ...
Two Loud Bottlegreen Flies at the Ananda Hotel.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> The lovers need a beginning and an end, they require a universe and ask themselves what happens beyond the last galaxy, is it as fiery inside Aldebaran as it is between their legs, they imagine living forever while they undress each other ...
The Island of the Ex-Wives.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> There they play badminton with their lover Charles while the child watches with bright eyes from the pines. When they get tired they doze in a hammock with the gray-muzzled pug twitching at their feet, when they are hungry they nibble tofu ...
Dice in Thuringia.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> After Tacitus <Preformatted type="other"> 1 We wrestled, rolled in love, and wandered home drunk, straw stuck to our bellies, kicking a little smooth stone before us: light side, dark side ... We gorged on dark windfall plums. In the tea-colored forest pools trout ...
Raccoon on a Branch.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> You want to face this illness on your own. I take a plane to be nearby. Your physique, still handsome, racked by coughs, by monthly chemo. It's difficult for you to speak. I'm tongue-tied. As I leave, walking down your block, ground trembles. I ...
Feast for the Living.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> I dream my father is alive, preparing the Ocean Drive house for a dinner party. Together we walk down the aisles, my father steering the cart, selecting favorite foods: dark chocolate, crisp baguettes, smoked salmon, buttery Chardonnay, chickens, ...
Outside the Tomb.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> Uproar of finch in olive leaves. The angels spoke, but I was blind. A gardener called. If only pores could drip with honey, bones would shine. Let me explore tuber and truss, tunic and whorl, serve as your ...
Warning Signs.(Poem)
Mar 22, 2008; ... <Text rich="yes"> <Preformatted type="other"> The sky turns brackish green, I'm caught outside and hear a rumble growing louder, stomping the heart. Storm-clouds spit out the grit of my indecision while I size up the distance. Before I reach sanctuary you strike, catch me off balance, then ...