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a poem
Stopped watch A noise you can undress is revealed by clock handsmoving not a fraction toward the top of the hour, During the break, presidents of lost countries walk down planks from ships onto Hudson River docks, confetti blocks the sun, There are times when it would be nice to land on an air carrier dressed up for ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on September 8, 2008
WALKING IN FOG: stunning
Fog has its appeal because we’re interested in the idea of a nether world coexistent with our own, where things are less definite, less material, able to appear and vanish into other details , or into vapor altogether. It’s a filter over the hard edges of what we see and take for granted and perhaps even curse for being solid, precisely drawn, ...
Posted to Poems by Ted-Burke on September 2, 2008
Re: Mary Ann's help-with-Dickinson thread
I don't disagree that Dickinson's poems are fragments and shards of what she might have been thinking about in lifetime seclusion; the habit of mind she displays in the poems is indicative of someone who's developed their own lexicon and signifiers that are sealed against obvious interpretations, a short hand that, in the context of the poems, are ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on August 25, 2008
what did you say
he says something smartjust to ease pass the womenwho talk over toddler shortswhile cell phones in pursesfill the air with badgering tones. no one seems to hear himso he leaves through the back door, lunch and a magazine grasped in either hand. the sandwich is dry,starchy like warm shirts, the letteuce is limpand lies there like laundry ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on August 24, 2008
Re: Thur,OPP:"White Night" by Paul Auster
You can never have too much existentialism, French, German or Maynard G.Krebs; the idea that a writer is in his existential moment, stripped of his excuses and wholly dependent on his next action to give his life meaning , purpose. authenticity, is exactly the dilemma we discuss here all the time. It is the issue that all these poems-about-poetry ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on August 14, 2008
Re: "Stuff White People Like" as it relates to poetry workshops
As I've remarked elsewhere, white European Americans are the only ethnic assortment someone can make fun of with impunity; it's now beyond whatever value it as irony or poetic justice and now exists as a bad habit for taking cheap shots. A laugh and a good wicked snort can be had making fun of the habits of poets, but limiting the odd ways to ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on August 8, 2008
William Logan on Frank O'Hara
Famously dour poetry critic William Logan smooths a few of the wrinkles from his creased visage and assess editor Mark Ford's new Selected Poems by Frank O'Hara with a surprisingly even hand. That is, he found some nice things to say about a poet you wouldn't have thought he'd consider to have any saving graces .The upshot is that he has a peeve ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on August 7, 2008
I think I shall never see...
I think I shall never seea poem as lovely asa cat wrapped ar ound the leg of a chair finessed in Grand Rapids,Grecian columnsscarred withclaws and the slashing dentsa gnawing provides,A calico's hairthat makes me sneezenappingin the puddle of sunlightuntila sudden noisemakes the animalstraighten and go rigid, claws splayed,insanity in its ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on August 4, 2008
motor way
motor way as far North as my neck would turnand see so many roads that wind through woods as a box of pencils or a half usedream of typing paper.lights dance on the rimand underscore the rimecollected at the edges of thingsmade with a torchand an assortment of hammers.these tall buildingsring the public squareas we play chesson hard cement ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on July 30, 2008
Thur.OPP:Robert Kelly
ScienceRobert KellyScience explains nothing but holds all together as many things as it can count science is a basket not a religion he said a cat as big as a cat the moon the size of the moon science is the same as poetry only it uses the wrong words.
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on July 10, 2008

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