Red is sweeter
Letter from Québec
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Kaatsbaan
Heat lamps huddle in the off-season, and by off-season, I mean daytime. The liquid shadows of wooden fences, the fences taller than me. The music barn open to the wind, a monarch the size of my hand. The draping willow. A place at rest. At the inn: paintings
Will not miss Nan Goldin
Returned the keys to 18 Bridge. Will not miss Nan Goldin and her admirers/interns smoking on the front steps in such a way that precludes others from entering the building, they must reach over her to punch in the code that opens the door, holding their breath until the
Cracking it open
Now that you're in the home stretch, you imagine walking around DUMBO, holding a torch of burning sage, or beating the buildings and the cobblestones with a venik, a whisk of dried oak or birch branches like in the Russian baths, to a brassy soundtrack of the Rude
Swift
On Monday a few dozen of us gathered in the parking lot behind the Montclair Library and watched hundreds of chimney swifts soar about until, one by one or two by two or two by three, they fell into the massive chimney of the Buzz Aldrin Middle School, where they