I walk the mystery city,
its dark angles and golden slices.
I make my way up
glasstic, gargoyle'd, rubble-shine
to the only way in
where dirt poets dance
in a field behind chainlink,
a stubbled field of forgotten geometry,
where a drunk mower makes cloddy Bijou,
trampled Panteges, botched Belasco
for rough Lunts like us.
One urgent press of my crumbly stick
—a drag, a mark on pulpwood fiber—
and your bleached, watermark'd world is
marred by my desire.
The making of my line saturates,
and I Brando.
I taste minerals.
I floor it.
Carbon is the ash of romance,
compressidue of prehistoric fuck.
o bury me not
Foundering to the grave, mama in their pockets, they tore full chisel across my plain horizon, rip-snorters and gallivants, forsaken darlins’ all. When the sad stanza came ‘round and the red rose blooms—over an ill look, a wrong card, a bad turn—I crybaby’d their beautiful words. Safe and unseen in blue and green I wept for cut-and-come-again chirks fine as cream gravy, frozen in line camps, undiscovered until spring. For tired riders fetched up on forgotten trails, who offered their dust to heaven. For ghosts who pick violets in cottonwood draws.
What Kindle Can’t Do
In 1936, the publishers of The Dolphin: A Journal of the Making of Books, began work on “A History of the Printed Book.”
They commissioned essays, and sent staff into the cauldron of pre-war Europe to rescue woodblocks, copperplates, etchings, and examples. Convinced that books would always exist, they felt an obligation to document the original materials and methods, and the talented artisans who invented and perfected printing.The result is a richly illustrated and unique, detailed history, written by scholars.
How do amateurs do science and critical thinking? If a nine-year-old can effectively debunk Therapeutic Touch with a well-designed, simple experiment, why can’t anyone deploy science?
The case of "Emily Rosa", the 9-year old you are referring to, is somewhat exceptional (and, crucially, she was guided by a supportive family), but obviously shows that critical thinking can be learned and practiced at a very young age. The thing to understand, though, is that critical thinking - like science itself - doesnt come natural to human beings, it is a skill that needs to be acquired. We naturally tend to jump to conclusions based on very little evidence, rationalize our theories to the utmost degree, and stick with the wrong idea long after it has been shown to be false.
writer, editor, visual artist
As CUNY Writers Institute Fellow I got to edit with Leo Carey (The New Yorker) and Jon Galassi (FSG). Wrote things for Salon, been published in anthologies. I edit manuscripts fiction and non-fiction. I design books.
Illustrated for the New Yorker for many years, but I have movement disorders now and so I work with (forgiving) pastels and digital collage. Wrote an unpublished memoir with my daughter Molly, who I raised alone until she was 10. She died in July, 2018. I serve on the board of CAPS, an 18-year-old poetry organization in New York.
In 1970, at 14, I was raped and tortured for five days and nights by three older boys in a facility in St. Louis. The guards who permitted it were never prosecuted. Dozens, maybe hundreds of boys shared my fate there. No one cares about boys in facilities, though. Poo-tee-weet. Phuck Missouri.
Some other things: I engineered Yale's Climate Institute site and tools, designed and ran the first multimedia stage set at Avery Fisher Hall in NYC, had a few short plays produced, one off-Broadway.
All proceeds from art—prints and commissions—will be donated to New Hope Manor, a unique residential treatment center run by women for women.
You can also donate to them directly. (Please make the donation in the name of my daughter, Molly Correll, who died in 2018.)
A percentage of all editing and writing commissions generated through this site will also be donated to New Hope. Contact me with questions.