Self-Portrait after Adam Zagajewski Between dead heading the liliespicking blueberriesand arranging the fruit plate,half my July morning passes.My village is not strange to me.I have not...

Ode to the Analog Age Praise the newspaper tossed each morning by a boy on a bicycle, ink of newsprint, thinness of paper. Praise phone booths...

WHERE ARE THE SUPERHEROES?A jubilant time, the era of the superhero,that decade when a vital young President,rejuvenated by a medical breakthrough,laid down plans for...