Need Machine [Coach House Books, 2013] is a small book of poems I loved immediately. The first two poems seemed as though one were observing a track sprinter stretch before the gun fires. But from The Lobby (beginning with “The Holiday Inn sign issues
I am writing this on the third anniversary of my father’s death. In Judaism, we remember a lost parent not on their birthday, but on their yahrzeit; a memorial anniversary marked by the day they passed. [articlequote]Tradition regards this day as
Cities are the most manmade of places, the most jammed with bodies, skin and steel. [textwrap_image align="right"]http://www.theoperatingsystem.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/hull_l.jpg[/textwrap_image] Lynda Hull’s poems are the cities and their dwellers, wide-hipped lyrics, shadows in doorways drunk off whiskey and their own dark music, hymns of
[box]notes from my conversation with fernando pessoa, poet: never does a hand hold another without being held at that same moment. we forget poetry, and this is our fault. we invent gods to compensate, and that's ok too. we stumble
My transition from “actor” to “writer” turned out to be harder than I thought. I was in my second year at Oberlin and had begun to drift away from the theatre community that had been so much of my self-definition.
In the 13th century, the Persian city of Shiraz was both a center of learning and artistic achievement, and a volatile and rebellious place marked by the decline of the Il-Khanid empire and the succession of short-lived rulers who scrabbled