I have been in poetry mode all this week, so it seems only fitting that I should discover, here in the dregs of this day, that today is W. S. Merwin’s birthday. In honor of his celebrating another year on the planet, I offer two or three of his poems. The first two I found…

there was something in the autumnal airto begin with: not a chill, an awakeningas soon as I stepped out of the houseI breathed in the crisp chill of possibilityand, as I turned toward the car, I sawthe sky – cloudless, clear, and colored inopen invitation blue; all that was missingwas a soundtrack, which I added…

at our church means saying where it hurts, or who it hurts, out loudwe call the names of those we loveand those we know who are sickor dying or have lost someone orare just lost and our pastor tells usGod is not waiting for her to repeatthe requests — our joys and concernsdo not require…

a story has an arc, the teacher told usand drew a line like a colorless rainbowon the blackboard — you remember, right? exposition, rising action — fueled by conflictthe climax at the top, and then falling actionfalling so far that we spoke French: denouement resolution to you and me and I wondered whatwould happen if…

Ray Charles was born today.My parents had an old LP of his,“Modern Sounds in Country & Western Music,”that I played over and over andI remember how I could feel“You Don’t Know Me” tearing upmy insides; I was seven, maybe.That song still kills me. Bruce Springsteen was born today.My senior year in high school he madethe…

so I ask myself this questionit’s a question I often repeatwhere do allergies gowhen it’s after the showand they want to find something to eat?Paul Simon, “Allergies” There once was a man who grew wearyOf the pollen that made his life dreary:“I’ve tried Netis and steamPlus antihistaminesAnd I’m still mostly stuffy and teary.” Peace,Milton

Part of my morning ritual right now is chipping away at Jimmy Webb’s book, Tunesmith, which is about the art and process of song writing. Webb is one of my favorites. In the chapter, “It’s Only Words,” he talks about the songwriter’s task, different than most any other written art form is “technological haiku,” being…

Part of what makes working in a restaurant kitchen interesting is you never really know who is coming for dinner and when they are planning to come. At the Durham restaurant we take reservations, so we do know the answer a good bit of the time, yet last Sunday night we had reservations for forty…

When I first met Pete Cernoia, he was a mailman. No, that’s what he did for a job. Let me start again. From the first moment I met Pete Cernoia I was glad I knew him. We shared a common love of music and guitar playing, as well as rather skewed senses of humor, but…

to a member of Congresswho yells, “You lie” at ourPresident, like a drunk fanyelling at a referee, or a pastor who spews hatefrom his pulpit, wishingour President would diea natural death because, “We don’t need anotherholiday.” The commentsare connected acrossour continent by one thing, one thread, oneugly truth that is hardto call out by name:they…