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Spencer Reece has given us a Whitman-esque South Beach in The Prodigal Son minus the goddamn decadence.

Rae Armantrout continues to be one of the most interesting poets : And ( esp. the last line) Luster (“Like” is like/ insomnia) and The Thinning.

 Lines from Alice Fulton:

  • “If song goes wrong,/ be dancerly.”
  • “It is a ferocious thing/ to have your body as your instrument.”
  • “This tune with mountains tied inside”

Cally Conan-Davies : Ace

Sandra Beasley : “No one// ever praises the ass of the peacock”

 There’s much fun and wisdom in Anna Kamienska’s Notebook, but here are my favs :

  • Talking too much about yourself is like wearing your clothes inside out.
  • Where your pain is, there your heart lies also.
  • her hedgehog, all alone, fell in love with a broom.
  • The more we love another person, the more we love ourselves, and everything else, and the world.
  • God doesn’t hesitate to cast his word on the wind, since he knows it won’t be lost.
  • God had His reasons for keeping death under wraps.
  • Sleep is what I’ll miss the most when I die.
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