In the desert there is a pocket that
Is the poem. A watery bubble on an
Arid surface, like a fingertip on a
Voided screen that sparks to touch. The failed eavesdrop.
It looks like life, or its mimesis, here
Among the droning decadence of dune
After dune, shrugging, as chrysanthemums
Shrug at a burni…
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‘We meet at various points in the great swathes of the past that neither of us were alive to witness.’
Allen Bratton on a daytrip to a castle with his older boyfriend.
‘Listening to three white poets, whom I suspect are academics, talk about the state of poetry.’
Oluwaseun Olayiwola eavesdrops on an older generation.
‘I’d been dubious about his company at first.’
Sarah Moss on watching Shakespeare with her twelve-year-old son.
‘She didn’t trust us because, to her, tenants were like children.’
Kate Zambreno on negotiating with her older landlady.
‘A moment now swallowed in embarrassment, I asked a question only a young person might ask an older one.’
Lynne Tillman on trying to understand what makes a generation.
