Kay Ryan

POETRY: The Edges Of Time by Kay Ryan

February 17, 2017

It is at the edges that time thins. Time which had been dense and viscous as amber suspending intentions like bees unseizes them. A humming begins, apparently coming from stacks of put-off things or just in back. A racket of claims now, as time flattens. A glittering fan of things competing to happen, brilliant and urgent as fish when seas [...]

POETRY: Late Justice by Kay Ryan

September 17, 2014

Late justice may be more useless than none. Some expungings or making-rights or getting-backs lack the capacity to correct. The formerly aggrieved become exacting in unattractive ways: intolerant of delay, determined to collect. And shocked— shocked—at their new unappeasableness, who had so long been so [...]

POETRY: Hanging On Hope, or not — Poems on Hope

March 5, 2014

Let No Charitable Hope Elinor Wylie Now let no charitable hope Confuse my mind with images Of eagle and of antelope: I am in nature none of these. I was, being human, born alone; I am, being woman, hard beset; I live by squeezing from a stone The little nourishment I get. In masks outrageous and austere The years go by in single file; But none has merited my fear, And none has quite escaped my smile. Hope Gary Soto Maybe a dog I loved best will limp Up the street and fall at my feet, Not really hurt, just tired. “Smoky,” I cry, and in crying send the sparrows In the tree a limb higher. “I missed you, I really missed you. Where did you go?” I peel back his eyelids and view An adventure—oh, how he dodged cars And [...]

POETRY: Backward Miracle by Kay Ryan

January 9, 2014

(Kay Ryan was the United States Poet Laureate from 2008 until 2010.) Every once in a while we need a backward miracle that will strip language, make it hold for a minute: just the vessel with the wine in it— a sacramental refusal to multiply, reclaiming the single loaf and the single fish [...]