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There’s no way to know / from where our next light will come — / if we should look to heaven or to earth — so / I choose to be aware of the closeness, / thin boundary between mountain-shadow / and sea-salt starfield.

Read “Months after the Mt. Cashmere Wildfire, with Meteors” by Luke Johnson.

Some of them, often the best of them, will go undercover—wear suits and carry briefcases, returning to their writing desk only after the sun has gone down and the city has gone to sleep.

Last Sunday I went to see Reverend Father Ernesto Cardenal Martínez read at Vanderbilt. I don’t speak Spanish, so I had to rely on the translations, which is always a bit dodgy with poetry. If you watch the video linked above, you’ll see he read a number of poems including “Gazing at the Stars with […]

cannonballing across the lawn

Read “The Heart, Like A Bocce Ball” by Luke Johnson.