By Brian Etling
posted at 10:00 am on May 1, 2016 0
“Complacencies of the peignoir, and late / Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair, / And the green freedom of a cockatoo / Upon a rug mingle to dissipate / The holy hush of ancient sacrifice. / She dreams a little, and she feels the dark / Encroachment of that old catastrophe, / As a calm darkens among water-lights.” Wallace Stevens’s
” is the perfect poem to kick off the day of rest. Here’s a a brief profile
from The New Yorker
on Stevens’ life and art.