La parola da casa, Serena Piccoli

It's hot in Chicago tonight, and I'm sleepless and taking a break from Japanese literature--that's been my concern lately. My head is full of Genji's romances, but near my side are works by Emerson, Foucault, Plato, Lucretius, and Paz, and I've just been sorting through blogs for recent poetry news. With Keira on my hands, I've been taking a break from the bickering of the poetry world to be domestic. Glancing around tonight, I found many fascinating critical pieces by poets surfacing. Something seems to be shifting in American poetry lately, but I cannot fix it yet.