Carla Sarett
@cjsarett
Nom Pushcart, Best of Net, Best American Essays. Poetry: Any Excuse for a Party, Woman on the Run, My Family Was Like a Russian Novel, She Has Visions
Face it, we need poems about baby elephants and Betty Boop. bainbridgeisland.press/products/any-e…
I am deeply saddened by the news of Jane’s death. I never met her, but she was a boisterous, provocative, funny online penpal, and, most importantly, a poet of rare lyric grace. It was an honor to publish the poem below earlier this summer.
Some lit journals pay nothing. Today, appreciatively, I received a modest check from @utulsa for this poem, which appeared in @NimrodJournal last month. Editor-in-chief @BorisDralyuk and his excellent young staff put out a first-class journal that respects the folks it publishes.
Delighted to see one of my “Kindred Spirits” pieces,“Cole’s Widow” included in the lovely new issue of @inparenth
Robert Hedin, “Raising the Titanic” I worked my way up deck by deck, story by story,
Couldn't let Wendy Cope's 80th birthday pass without posting this absolute knock-out punch of a poem.
“I write things down / in the spirit of Marcus Aurelius / who said the finest bottle of wine / is just grape juice, passing through the liver, / no matter the beauty of a frothing glass” —@biancastone, “Marcus Aurelius” @Tin_House poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine…
Thanks @JoseHernandezDz — my copy of Portrait of the Artist as a Brown Man arrived today.
Fanny Howe, “1995” [from Love and I] It was fifty years after the extermination And we were laughing
![cjsarett's tweet image. Fanny Howe, “1995”
[from Love and I]
It was fifty years after the extermination
And we were laughing](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/GwZYAJ2bEAA9Zoq.jpg)
All I have in common with Sylvia P.
Simple life: potato and steak. 7/20/57
Edward Hirsch, “American Summer” but each night was a Walt Whitman of holidays
"Music should be fun", Sir Roger Norrington once said, "it should entertain – and never, ever, be pompous." Farewell to a fearless conductor with a singular and always thrilling approach to music, from every era. Sir Roger Norrington, who was a leading figure in the…
"The pen, the pot of ink, the strewn pages." Goodnight from Raymond Carver.
—Nikki Giovanni, Housecleaning Image via star•gyal
Reginald Shepherd, “My Mother Was No White Dove” My mother was the clouded-over night/ a moon swims through
Another tragedy, after many nights of deadly drone attacks on civilians. The Aero Club has seen its share of heroes since 1908. I relate its history and lit. legacy here, translating a poem by Osip Kolychev (1904-73): bdralyuk.wordpress.com/2020/03/07/the… The sweet, nostalgic poem begins…
🫡🕯️🇺🇦 Odesa has suffered a heavy and irreparable loss: on Friday, July 18, while performing a combat mission on the front line, a legendary figure died – the president of the Odesa Aeroclub, chairman of the board of the Odesa Region Parachuting Federation, Konstantin Oborin.
70 years ago today, Weldon Kees vanished without a trace. Police found his Plymouth Savoy abandoned near the Golden Gate Bridge with the keys still in the ignition. Of the many poems written for Kees over the years, this one by Larry Levis has stayed with me more than any other.
Tragic this young bard, Andrea Gibson, had to die—just 4 days ago—for me to discover this work. RIP, sing with the angels
Walt Whitman, “On the Beach at Night Alone”— A vast similitude interlocks all,
