by Warren Gaston | Nov 14, 2017
My poem is underway. It moves toward unknown destinations, in search of eyes, in search of ears. Like a message in a bottle adrift on the wavewide sea, my poem desires to be discovered. Trembling in a stranger’s hands, my poem works to shake loose a stubborn yet...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 11, 2017
“It is impossible to communicate to people who have not experienced the undefinable menace of total rationalism.” Czeslaw Milosz People do not appreciate modern poetry when they labor under the illusion that life is logical. Just say what you mean, they say to the...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 8, 2017
The house is falling down. Let’s paint the walls. There are termites in the attic which explains water in the basement. Let us decorate with pictures of sound houses, hanging blueprints and architectural renderings. The nails pound easily. Think of the strength of...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 31, 2017
A horse grazes in a field among blossoms as a bee alights on a sun seed bloom. The horse sees a blur of translucent wings pass the brown window of her dreamy eye. The horse considers the way of the bee, its lightness, its floral life, its honeyed household in the...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 29, 2017
Paris, France – October 2016 Looking through the window of a Paris tour bus, I see you you don’t see me as we weave our way through traffic around the Arc de Triomphe in opposite directions, west to east, east to west. I filch radiance flicked from your chin,...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 19, 2017
A Prose Poem While reading Charles Baudelaire’s The Flowers of Evil in my garden, a tiny spider walked across a poem titled ‘The Jinx,’ I slammed the book shut. When I opened it, there was a miniscule red stain between “vita brevis” and “ars longa.”...
