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BRIDGE MORNING The child outside the swinging door Heard her mother say, I won't make something of myself Stuck at home all day. Honey, said a languid voice, Some days I'm so depressed By toilet bowls and groceries I almost can't get dressed. Another friend remarked, I told My husband that, I said, 'Lanier, you
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There was a time when I could not have imagined being indifferent to the release of a new Dylan album. But it was a fairly short time, only five years or so in the last half of the '60s. Nashville Skyline, Self-Portrait, New Morning, and Planet Waves pretty well cured me of Dylan-awe. Not that those were all
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WHY SHOULD NOT OLD MEN BE MAD? Why should not old men be mad? Some have known a likely lad That had a sound fly-fisher's wrist Turn to a drunken journalist; A girl that knew all Dante once Live to bear children to a dunce; A Helen of social welfare dream, Climb on a wagonette
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I don't think I've ever been as happily surprised by a book as I have been by Waugh's Helena. My expectations for it were not very high. In fact the truth is that I picked it up partly out of a vague sense of duty: he's a writer I like, love when he's at his best,
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FOUR PRELUDES ON PLAYTHINGS OF THE WIND The past is a bucket of ashes. 1 The woman named Tomorrow sits with a hairpin in her teeth and takes her time and does her hair the way she wants it and fastens at last the last
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Several weekends ago my wife and I went to the opening at the Mobile Medical Museum of an exhibit which featured Dr. James A. Franklin, Sr., and his work: "Dreaming at Dawn: African Americans and Health Care, 1865-1945." This rather inadequate photo is of the portrait of him displayed in that exhibit: This is a photo of the
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THE LATEST DECALOGUE Thou shalt have one God only; who Would be at the expense of two? No graven images may be Worshipped, except the currency. Swear not at all; for, for thy curse Thine enemy is none the worse. At church on Sunday to attend Will serve to keep the world thy friend. Honor
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A few years ago I picked up two of William F. Buckley, Jr.'s spy novels from a giveaway table at the library. I've never been a big fan of Buckley's writing as such, but I like the genre, and was curious as to how Buckley handled it. Recently, having begun to look at the overflowing
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HOUSE OF REST Now all the world she knew is dead In this small room she lives her days The wash-hand stand and single bed Screened from the public gaze. The horse-brass shines, the kettle sings, The cup of China tea Is tasted among cared-for thing Ranged round for me to see— Lincoln, by Valentine
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So Kavanaugh has been confirmed. As I fully expected would be the case, the result is not peace but mutual declarations of war. There isn't going to be any post-game handshake and congratulation here. Rather, many or most on both sides are saying "Our enemies now stand revealed as the devils we always knew they
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Light On Dark Water 