Sympathy Strikes

Andrea Cohen meets Ricardo Sternberg on the picket line…

Opening and closing stanzas (but equal gateways) to “Let Me Die in Madrid” in Furs Not Mine by Andrea Cohen:

Let me die in Madrid
when the grave diggers
are on strike. Let the drivers


let me raise an empty glass
to the empty graves, empty buses,
empty pockets of my unpaid mourners.

I have a wish to hear Andrea Cohen read with Ricardo Sternberg either in person or online. They have similar sensibilities and I think similar approaches to cadence and story telling. It never ends. It just pauses.

Ricardo Sternberg on the endless openness of the creative process, or any process:

At the time I began the long poem in Some Dance, I was both reading The Odyssey — out loud this time — and — not at the same time, mind you — watching Mexican soaps. There is something about how narration at both classical and trashy levels allows or even invites one to take “one more kick at the can.”

from an interview with Diana Kuprel

She has a poem called “The Invention of Grief” and he a book called The Invention of Honey. It would be nice to engage in a seminar on the work of these poets.

And the wish list grows.

And as pointed out by Ricardo to me: “[S]he has a book called The Cartographer’s Vacation and I have a book called Map of Dreams.

I so like introducing friends to books they might like and poets they might read with.

And so for day 2777

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