Greenpoint, October, 2015

Tuesday, February 25, 2014


Roosevelt Ave. (June 2011)

How sad that my life has not come to mean
for you what your life came to mean for me.
. . . How many times in vacant lots have I
consigned my copper coin, crowned with the seal
of state, to that webbed universe of wires,
attempting hopelessly to stretch the time
of our connectedness . . . Alas, unless
a man can manage to eclipse the world,
he's left to twirl a gap-toothed dial in some
phone booth, as one might spin a ouija board,
until a phantom answers, echoing
the last wails of a buzzer in the night.

Joseph Brodsky (September 1967)

1 comment:

  1. Yes, I wonder how much poetry one could extract from tapping on a smartphone. A challenge for your students, perhaps!