Wednesday, March 1, 2017


Hecatomb Sixteen

Monarchs in hatbands:

Defeat deep in one's captured eyes.

Insouciance in the other's sweet.

Sitting Bull sees back forever, 1881,
downriver, liberty bad arrested,
last rifle surrendered,
earthly beauty and symbol of a
Monarch butterfly pinched from the air,
tucked for emblem, for camera, in hatband.

Old Walt, celebrated signifier at large, 'bout
same date, photographer's fool-de-rol, props
one of cardboard on forefinger, points a-
way. We don't do defeat in this culture.
We may do a cardboard
Monarch for the camera . . .

Defeat defeats us. In Sitting Bull's memory
and mind he rides all day in one direction
at liberty in open country. Without

no pain.

Hecatomb nine

Shooting Crows Again:

Time was, we lived odd
seasons on the prairie. Then

we witnessed first basque flower break
sod, and the cranes' high gyre.

Now I'm a townie, aint seen
a crocus in years, no more than hear

the cranes' weird croak way up.
Wind burns the snow and the snow

decomposes, the land so dry no melt
runs off. Shallow sloughs for waterfowl.

The crows are a good sight, back. I could
stand to be a crow, to make their play

in flight, to gang up in raucous confab, but for
the diet . . .

Cousin magpie succumbs to the new
virus in the land. Rancher

says he don't miss 'em. "Bastards
peck fresh cattle brands." I

miss them. I turn fifty-five
this spring, storm stayed. No

excuses, lots less of the map to follow
than retrace, fiddle-footed as ever,

a man of no rank come to a place without merit.


Guy Birchard
Pressed Wafer | Brooklyn

Tuesday, February 28, 2017


Berta Cáceres speaks to people near the Gualcarque river in 2015 where residents were fighting a dam project. Photograph: Tim Russo/AP

Berta Cáceres court papers show murder suspects' links to US-trained elite troops


KNOPF, 2017

Monday, February 27, 2017

Sunday, February 26, 2017


Scribner 2017

No one but no one could have written this fascinating biography but a grand-daughter and a grand-daughter has. There have been many biographies and celebrations to the wonderful Dorothy Day over the years now, including by Robert Coles ( a beautiful mind barely ever mentioned any longer ) but there is something endearing and everlasting how a grand-daughter can circulate and write not only a biography from a personal perspective, but also
a universal scale, by a storyteller writing a passionate and even critical portrait of her grandmother, Dorothy Day, as well as Dorothy’s only child Tamar (the biographer’s mother) and also the author, a child then, bringing her own story
into the book. The biography becomes the story of three women’s lives, over a century long, cutting through some of the toughest ground of this country’s history: labor struggle, world wars, economic depression, civil rights, women’s rights, tattered joyous 60s, Presidential impeachment, Christian brotherhood, the Catholic Worker movement. Don’t go dummy or gummy on the word “Christian.” Here it means goodwill to all mankind. This sterling portrait will showcase how many people – often castoffs — others remarkable alongside them, and Dorothy Day, held their ground.

[ BA ]


"Love, motherhood, religion — how many of us on finding ourselves embraced by any one of those would have stopped, rested, and remained? But this is the mystery of those forces that led her to go one step further, and another step, and another. And in one of the most grace-filled moments of a life full of grace, Dorothy finds herself praying to the Blessed Mother. Here I am — what would you have me do? Isn’t this that in-between time, that liminal space cherished by the Irish, the mysterious time of waiting and wandering? Isn’t it about hearing the call?"

Kate Hennessey


Saturday, February 25, 2017

Friday, February 24, 2017