Samizdat Blog

Anglophiles present, for the American professor of English, an occupational hazard. One inevitably has colleagues who've spent so many ...

Ow! My leg! Last Monday a suddenly-opened car door had a disagreement with my bicycle about the nature of my forward trajectory. "Slow...

Yes, it's true. I've been abducted by Anton Dy Buncio, official Chicago-area fun sherpa, and interrogated about poetry, teaching, w...

Ever since my daughter, Lila, was born four months ago I've been spending most mornings hanging out with her. She's good company bu...

Bruce Andrews! Juliana Spahr! Leslie Scalapino! Allen Ginsberg! Ezra Pound! and, uh...me! Yep. Once again, I'm part of the WSUM Word Sa...

Sad news: the poet David Bromige has died. I only met him once or twice, but I admired his work, his wit, his sense of play and style. He ...

"Storming the Museum of Irrelevance" , the web version of an essay I wrote for the current issue of Poetry , is now online. If yo...

"You know when a communications medium is obsolete?" my media theorist collegaue Dave Park likes to ask, before answering himself ...

What thou lovest well remains, &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp...

There are only a few presses that have changed poetry publishing. New Directions in its heyday helped bring Modernism to the bookstores. C...

"We got a Yeats, you got a Wallace Stevens." That's what Eavan Boland told me, more than a decade ago, when I interviewed her...

No, no, I'm not dead or otherwise incapacitated: it's just that I've been busy tapping out some reviews and plugging away on a c...