WUTR

If you’re like me you guessed Gertrude Stein, and like me you’d be wrong. It’s Edgar Allan Poe. But let’s take the guesswork out of the rest of this combo Choice Bits/Shop Talk summertime post. Julia Kristeva: “In terms of their attitude toward life, cultivated and cultivating people are vegetarian wolves,lying in wait for the

Vicky Chow performs Steve Reich. Wm. Blake: “the cistern contains, the fountain overflows.” Glory, by Noviolet Bulawayo The Testaments, by Margaret Atwood Iep Jaltok, poems of a Marshallese daughter, by Kathy JetNil-Kijiner (opening poem, “Hooked,” will send chills.) ING, by Clark Coolidge (Illustrations by Philip Guston) (And be sure to add how much fun it

© 2023 Randy Stark Please feel free to visit my website at www.randystark.com. My books are available on Amazon.

three short bits from a poem titled “The Future,” by Lyn Hejinian There’s no sense to things except the sense we bring to them. But there will always be things out there, independent of us, preceding us and outlasting us. Weekends will occur no matter what. Courageously we’ll follow the dialectical zigzag of despair and

Circa 1980-1981, Electrum magazine, the Laguna Beach, California poetry scene.  Either I (then known as Randal George Stark) submitted it sans title or the editors omitted it whatever it was. Anyway, this is more than likely my first ever published poem. © 2023 Randy Stark Please visit my website at www.randystark.com. My books are available

A page, circa 1980-81, from Electrum, a now defunct magazine/house journal for a confederation of writers that staged weekly poetry readings in Laguna Beach, California back in the day, back when I went by Randal George Stark (LOL). © 2023 Randy Stark Please visit my website at www.randystark.com. My books are available on Amazon.

From The Second Coming, by William Butler Yeats Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the