by Danielle Deulen | Feb 3, 2019 | Lit from the Basement
What Myth Is by Carl Phillips Not only what lasts, but what applies over time also. So maybe, for all my believing, not you, on either count. Anymore than this hand where it falls, here, on your body; or than your body itself, however good sometimes at making—even...
by Danielle Deulen | Jan 27, 2019 | Lit from the Basement
Letter from New York by Erika L. Sánchez Every street—fried meat and onion, smears of shit and a gaggle of gadgets. What is the soul but this endless circuitry, the bright and pitiful idea you carry of yourself? Everything open open. When you say available, what you...
by Danielle Deulen | Jan 20, 2019 | Lit from the Basement
Report from the Daughter of a Blue Planet by Yona Harvey Night after night the land delivers its verdict. Blades of grass struggle through earth, hearts & lungs develop in their sacs. Beetles mingle with dust & buds of flowers unfasten for the last time. The...
by Danielle Deulen | Jan 13, 2019 | Lit from the Basement
[ode] by D.A. Powell where have you gone blue middle of a decade? the gates creak. a sigh so vastly different the diary is pure spine. in the most gingerly way each leaf opened reveals the less of you 83, 84, 85: your relics in a converse...
by Danielle Deulen | Jan 6, 2019 | Lit from the Basement
Meditation at Lagunitas by Robert Hass All the new thinking is about loss. In this it resembles all the old thinking. The idea, for example, that each particular erases the luminous clarity of a general idea. That the clown- faced woodpecker probing the dead sculpted...
by Danielle Deulen | Dec 30, 2018 | Lit from the Basement
Kindness by Naomi Shihab Nye Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth. What you held in your hand, what you counted and carefully saved, all this must go so you know how desolate...
