His lines crawl across my cortex when I sit and when I walk and when I lie down and when I rise up. While I wash dishes, he whispers words like maisonette and miasmal mist and fugitive resentment and glazen shelves and green silence. I can’t shake the images of brown waves of fog and daffodil bulbs staring up from eye sockets and a […]
a poetry dare with t.s. eliot
Remember that poetry dare issued by Tweetspeak Poetry I mentioned earlier this month? Well, it’s begun . . “We’d like you to read not just a poem a day but a poem from one particular poet a day. (That is, the same poet every day.) And that poet, for reasons we have yet to discover, […]
