Remembering W.S. Merwin, Honorary Texan

by | Fri, Mar 22, 2019 at 6:00 CST
The Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, who died at 91 last week, liked pausing by roadsides everywhere in Texas to examine plants, pocket seeds and smell the air.

A Heavy Burden

A Heavy Burden What is it you carry Inside that clay pot on your shoulder? Is it filled with water For your wife and children to drink?   Or do you carry the h...Read More

Yesterday’s People

“One might go so far as to say that any Appalachian person who is willing to read such a study as this hardly qualifies to be included in it.” —Jack Welle...Read More

Poems by Joan Canby

Ego Right blade in a pair of scissors, left sock of a pair of gray argyles, middle cushion in the sofa, second step in the stepladder, middle C not B sharp, eac...Read More

The Soup of Baghdad

A plate falls to the floor this night, the door holds its knocks silence broken by fear   Baba fingers the bowl for onions his kubbeh has cooled like blue vein...Read More


This will all look good one day Fridays after work the walks alone a slow weave in the evening through an amethyst light glancing at lonely shop girls perhaps f...Read More

Daddy’s Bones

I lie in morning sleep.  I dream I’m in my mother’s house, holding my father, a bag of bones in my arms, blanket wrapped ‘round his rooster foot body. We...Read More

Motion Sickness

There is a woman in Munich whose damaged brain knows life as a sequence of still photographs changing stroboscopically – a cup overflows while the just tipped...Read More


I’m trying to remember the word for coward. There’s a man there beating a woman. Naked in my window, awakened by her screams, I’m looking down on the stre...Read More