You've got to dig to dig it, you dig?
The Party, the Protest : Kay Gabriel and the Nightboat School of Poets, by Anahid Nersessian (Bookforum)
“Gabriel’s new book, Perverts, exemplifies the new poetry’s distinguishing features without being reducible to a narrow patch of typicals. It is queer and leftist, urbane, elegant but bawdy, erudite but steeped in popular culture, and passionately invested in forms of social life that feel distinctly contemporary—the party, the protest—but whose real history is ancient, even primordial.”
where, with a resonant clarity,
we fathom fortitude … steady
a place marked with an impulse
found and held within
the fold … honey
green … the color
of my quotidian space
Now, as then, the grace
Of heaven seems holding earth in its embrace.
10. WE WANT LAND, BREAD, HOUSING, EDUCATION, CLOTHING, JUSTICE, PEACE AND PEOPLE’S COMMUNITY CONTROL MODERN TECHNOLOGY.
necessity, something that precedes … and to which love is subservient.
concrete thrill of borderlessness
this […] space postulates the inwardness of the outside
There is a third response to chaos … stillness.
(TM)
purple and black intoned (also, in another register the green and brown)
in chant
a feeling he could not name but was disquieted by—longing? (Bel Canto, Ann Patchett)
Lutz Bacher. (… we don’t know the California-born artist’s real name, nor where her public-facing persona came from, but we do know this lifelong game of hide-and-seek was deliberate, an act of authorial resistance that framed her 50-year oeuvre)
Accordingly, the Court finds that the Constitution of these United States trumps this administration’s detention of petitioner Adrian Conejo Arias and his minor son, L.C.R. The Great Writ and release from detention are GRANTED pursuant to the attached Judgment.
Judge Biery, a federal judge in Texas’ Western District, granted their petition for a writ of habeas corpus. NYTimes annotates.
… But still
I buy a pack at Kingston airport mall—
jade confetti in a see-through sack.
That night I stew the leaves to make a tea—
to see her there, to plant her here with me.
Guinea Hen Weed, Hannah lowe
I.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
II.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
III.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
She Walks in Beauty, George Gordon Byron