Arthur Sze

2 months ago | oakiedog.substack.com | Arthur Sze |David Katznelson

When I tried to sign The Gories to Warner Bros. Records they had already pretty much broken up. I did not know that at the time, and to be honest, it is not a main driver of this story. But years and years later, after many reformations and tours, Gories guitarist Dan Kroha told me that when I reached out to him, the band was on fumes. But who is going to turn down found money, right?

Aug 1, 2024 | hcn.org | Arthur Sze

1 Mist veils the apricot branches and trunks— magpies and crows spread across the grass in silence— 2 White flags run uphill from the street to a neighbor’s construction site— in this near distance, the flags are tiny flags of surrender— 3 No one can see a line that divides “ours” from “theirs”— no one shouts, whines, or threatens— 4 Looking at the lines in his palms, he does not prognosticate but sees a history of struggle— along the sloping driveway, a cluster of daffodil shoots— 5 As he...

Jul 1, 2024 | newyorker.com | Arthur Sze

Along the Pojoaque, cottonwoods form a swerving river of gold— a plumber’s daughter returned your call to say her father died— that moment slipped like water between your fingers— like light yellowing during an annular eclipse before it whitens into daylight— you tremble at the surge of yellow-gold light at your fingertips— the stretch of desire in your body like stringing a bow— you love how she gathers herself then gazes point-blank into your eyes— a Himalayan crane’s-bill opens violet...

Apr 6, 2024 | poets.org | Donika Kelly |Liza Katz Duncan |Arthur Sze

Skip to main contentFind and share the perfect poems. late spring wind sounds an ocean through new leaves. later the same wind sounds a tide. later still the dry sound of applause: leaves chapped falling, an ending. this is a process. the ocean leaping out of ocean should be enough. the wind pushing the water out of itself;the water catching the lightshould be enough. I think this on the deck of one boatthen another. I think this in the Salish, thought it in Stellwagenin the Pacific.

Jan 4, 2024 | poetryfoundation.org | Arthur Sze

Corpses push up through thawing permafrost as I scrape salmon skin off a pan at the sink; on the porch, motes in slanting yellow light undulate in air. Is Venus at dusk as luminous as Venus at dawn? Yesterday I was about to seal a borax capsule angled up from the bottom of a decaying exterior jamb when I glimpsed jagged ice floating in a bay. Naval sonar slices through whales, even as a portion of male dorsal fin is served to the captain of an umiak.