To the New Year by W.S. Merwin
"so this is the sound of you / here and now whether or not / anyone hears it"
Wild Oats by W.S. Merwin
"September when the wind / drops and to us it seems / that the days are waiting / I needed my mistakes / in their own order / to get me here"
The Highway by W. S. Merwin
"The sun and everything / Are stuck in the same places, and the ditch / Is the same all the time, full of every kind / Of bone"
Thanks by W.S. Merwin
Dear Professor, Where to begin? The class has ended, and my heart is so full. When we talk about Niedecker's trade of choice, or of Williams dancing alone in his room, or of Stein showing us how language is incapable of articulating
Words From A Totem Animal by W.S. Merwin
Friends are leaving. It seems I'm here still. The one who gets left behind, or the one who stays. Either way, you know how that feels like. Words From A Totem Animal W.S. Merwin Distance is where we were but empty of us and ahead
For the Anniversary of My Death by W.S. Merwin
Death has touched this house once more. My grandfather's cousin, sick in the same way my lolo was sick, tried to kill himself again a few days ago. He deliberately pushed himself down a flight of stairs, breaking his bones,
Elegy by W.S. Merwin
Afternoon, and I am deeply involved in a discussion about semiotics. Here, I just remembered Merwin (add to that a current fascination with short works): Elegy W.S. Merwin Who would I show it to
Air by W.S. Merwin
Glenn Gould is playing Bach's Concerto in D Minor, BWV 974, II Adagio. It is almost two in the morning. It is November. The house is quiet. What have I lost, so I can be here now, in this moment?
Separation by W.S. Merwin
Today I was at the bookstore, sneaking pictures of books and strangers. And then: something falls out from the shelf, at my feet. I pick it up, dust it off, as I am wont to do of the things that