Since reading a few of Elizabeth Bishop’s poems as a teenager, I’ve always enjoyed my encounters with her work, but felt the poet was inscrutable, always at arm’s length, despite the fact that I live in the city where she was born and where she’s buried. 739 more words
Tags » Elizabeth Bishop
I found ideas of madness at your door
He howled against the stupidity of paper walls.
Letters never swelled with lips or chest,
Like a mind wholly mind, perching… 819 more words