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Tennessee Williams, poet after Hart Crane and Constantine Cavafy’s hearts

WINTER SMOKE IS BLUE AND BITTER (from Androgyne, Mon Amour) Winter smoke is blue and bitter: women comfort you in winter. Scent of thyme is cool and tender: girls are music to remember. Men are made of rock and thunder: threat of storm to labour under. Cypress woods are demon-dark:

winter album, including Operational Leap, Water Carrier, Foot Guy, Use This, The Soul & Window on the Winter Council, plus Westgate and Silhouettes of Lampposts, One with a bird on it, and more (without mentioning the shame that is the St. James while mil

POETRY IS THE INVENTION OF METAPHOR. EVERY WORD IS A TRANSLATION; EVERY WORD IS A BETRAYAL. Á La Santé du Serpent, Good Health to the Snake, René Char, my translation, forgive

I Je chante la chaleur à visage de nouveau-né, la chaleur désespérée. I SING THE WARMTH IN THE FACE OF A NEWBORN, THE DESPERATE WARMTH. II Au tour du pain de rompre l’homme, d’être la beauté du point du jour. THE BREAD’S TURN TO BREAK MAN, TO

beautiful understatement; a counterpoint between them that seems the most exquisite psychological insight into its characters: striking phrases from a book wholly striking for its passion and violence of action, and the more realistically human for its in

The spectre showed a spectre’s ordinary caprice. – Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights , first published 1847, a year before the death of its author, aged 30, although it appeared under the pseudonym of Ellis Bell, Penguin Books, Australia, 2009, p. 33 A nothing vexed him, and suspected slights of his authority

no representation is true without a genesis … making a clearing (& blurred notes on Olivier Zahm)

if you find it impossible to say, once you find it’s impossible to go on, then it’s clear that this is the place to start. What were they ? We had taken many of the same drugs. I only remember parts of the very long words for them, ptslblnmnkrnwfrsdnx

contre les assis

obéissez à vos cochons qui existent; j’obéis à mes dieux qui n’existent point. – René Char OBEY THE PIGS THAT EXIST; I OBEY THE GODS THAT DON’T.

composition, Upper Harbour Highway