If there is a new fascism, it won't come from skinheads and punks; it will come from people who eat granola and think they know how the world should be.
Human life is too difficult for people.
Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.
The corncob was the central object of my life. My father was a horse handler, first trotting and pacing horses, then coach horses, then work horses, finally saddle horses. I grew up around, on, and under horses, fed them, shoveled their manure, emptied the mangers of corncobs.
All poetry is an ordered voice, one which tries to tell you about a vision in the un-visionary language of farm, city, and love.
I knew about holiness, never having missed a Sunday-school class since I started at four years. But if Jews were also religious, how could our neighbor with the grease-grimy shirt use the word 'damn' about them?
The sharpest memory of our old-fashioned Christmas eve is my mother's hand making sure I was settled in bed.
well that's convenient, i guess blessings are easier to come by than i thought. maybe i should ask for blessings on my mission against all those who wear white after labor day
In the U. S. , HBO is a very aggressive service.
And of the Witch? In the life of a Witch, there is no "after", in the "ever after" of a Witch there is no "happily"; in the story of a Witch, there is no afterword. Of that part that is beyond the life story, beyond the story of the life, there is-alas, or perhaps thank mercy-no telling. She was dead, dead, and gone, and all that was left of her was the carapace of her reputation for malice.
Help, then, is the ballast that keeps us steady, that recognizes where along the path are the dangers and pitfalls that can throw us off; hope tempers fear so we can recognize dangers and then bypass or endure them.