More than a decade ago, octogenarian Jesuit felon Daniel Berrigan spoke at the local Jesuit university (in the auditorium of the business school, no less). During the Q & A, a friend of mine asked…
Jessie Sandova, From the Monastery to the World: The Letters of Thomas Merton and Ernesto Cardenal (Counterpoint Press, 2017) I had initial high hopes for reading the correspondence of Thomas Merton and Ernesto Cardenal. I started…
Z studied with meIn a Social Justice class fall 2007 I learned that semesterHow much Z loved poetry They kept a notebook of new wordsThey’d come across and then make the words a part of…
Over poetry, you didn’t gush. You read it. You read it with the tongue. You lived it. You felt how it moved you, changed you. How it contributed to giving your own life a form,…
You are the voice of people with adhesive tape across their mouths This is no time for literary criticism. Nor for attacking the gorillas with surrealistic poems. And what use are metaphors if slavery is…
Sunday 21 June 2015 Dear Isabel Page 2, paragraph 1 About your “fear of rejection”: Do you have a “fear of attraction” as well? I wonder how many people fell in love with you in…
Dear Kelley, I’m delighted that you inquired about where to start with reading Noam Chomsky. I look forward to discussing Hegemony or Survival with you in a couple of weeks. Back in 1986—those horrid years…
As an example of bourgeois mentality: some aunts of his wife (otherwise excellent ladies) when the Revolution began to nationalize the private clubs, came home telling about the countless indignities that they had to endure…
Ernesto Cardenal, Apocalypse and Other Poems Ernesto Cardenal, Flights of Victory/Vuelos de Victoria Ernesto Cardenal, From Nicaragua with Love Ernesto Cardenal, Golden UFOs: The Indian Poems Ernesto Cardenal, Pluriverse: New and Selected Poems Ernesto Cardenal, Psalms Ernesto Cardenal, The Doubtful Strait Ernesto Cardenal, Zero Hour…
If I had known Ernesto as he appears in the yellowed photograph Julia showed me: lean, bearded, with his plaid shirt and linen pants, hands in his pockets and that vague air of helplessness, I’d…