Here the roads are newly christened with names: anonymous slab of asphalt sedimented into a label. Every seventy-seventh tree is branded with an echo of conversation: cattlery, no hunting, Route 804. There is grass the orange of rusted barnacle, a vintage migrated from some crazy Italian painter who couldn’t replicate the color of fire & […]
What follows her is a fist of cold air. You craved the ocean & she proved its most approximate proxy. In the morning, you dream of crests and configure tides: a.m. let roll back p.m. roll in sand. Let the moon be exhausted – let it contribute overtime. Tell it to put a call in […]
Loafe with me on the grass . . . . loose the stop from your throat, Not words, not music or rhyme I want . . . . not custom or lecture, not even the best, Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice. — Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass Before there […]
Purvi Shah talks about trains and how they have affected her poetry and led her to a writing ritual.
Purvi Shah talks about writing love poems, including “When dreams shower one part of the body, when reality claims the other” and “Songburst.”
Purvi Shah talks about dialogue and conversation in her poems “A companion to the body,” “The enemy within,” and “Passing summer, Sama passing.”