Tuesday, May 12, 2020
When the reporter’s eye finds what the poet knows by heart and grinds into art, we may learn a kind of truth. So goes the translation – a situation that the times will confirm and by this we’ll know it: when every poet’s a journalist, every journalist a poet.
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
<< the moment is past (an instapoem archive)
by clicking here
Post a Comment