Suzanne Frischkorn's Blog, page 36

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However, I find it obvious that the "I" of my poems, when I employ first-person, could never be me. The speaker of my poems couldn't live in my world: she wouldn't wake for work, she'd tell the neighbors to shut up, she'd be arrested for public indecency, she'd no doubt be locked up eventually.

So Much I Love in One Place - Photos from the NY Botanical Garden

An exhibit on Cuba's RainforestsEmily Dickinson's GardenMatthew Thorburn reading in the Emily Dickinson Poetry Marathon. Matthew reads beautifully.

Status Update

Suzanne Frischkorn is looking forward to reading in the Emily Dickinson Marathon at the NY Botanical Gardens today -- this beautiful day -- and that's quite an understatement. Emily's poetry in the Garden? Absolute Bliss.

Emily Dickinson: The Poetry of Flowers, presented by Poetry Society of America & The New York Botanical Garden

Emily - her life, her poetry, her gardenThe schedule of events includes two readings in the Garden: a three-day marathon reading of Dickinson's complete poetry (from Friday, April 30 to Sunday, May 2), and a two-day theme reading of her work (from Saturday, June 12 to Sunday, June 13).I'll be participating in the marathon reading on Saturday May 1, at 3PM, and poet Matthew Thorburn is also

Serena is a Hosting a Poetry Giveaway featuring Girl on a Bridge

Check it out: National Poetry Month Giveaway for Readers

Books, Inq.

Mentions Some Poems and one from Girl on a Bridge is among them, thanks Rus, thanks Mr. Wilson!

To Madrid

July 20, 2005, MadridLittle more than a six-letter wordon a globe for some twenty yearsis what you were. And then I walkedhours and hours thatsweltering first day. In youI have felt lonely and mostalive. From one your cafes I hearjackhammers, horns. Your pagesare open and spread on marble,El Pais giving news of the living,the dead: a first marriage (you'resuddenly the freest stateon earth):

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As I began to work on it, each individual poem in the sequence became an opportunity to explore and encapsulate a different time period in that ocean, different contexts for growth and the changes in a relationship between father and daughter. For once, the idea of form didn't feel limiting but instead became expansive, ripe with possibilities. It was a house with seven rooms that I could

We are all poets now

The trouble I have with the Tinkers headlines is that they actually play into the accepted New York narrative. As if there weren't a thousand Tinkers left on the boardroom floor. As if there weren't more good books not just published outside New York but likely left unpublished in a system of this sort. And as if all great and original books can jump through the necessary hoops, held up by

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Questions for the Quest, by Reb Livingston