Chicago Review

An international journal of literature, interviews, and reviews. For academic audiences.

Articles from Vol. 45, No. 2, Spring

A Gigolo's Ghee Gilded William
What I was lacking you brought from beneath a ghat I was building a gimbal and it cracked I was unbraiding a giaour's meditated tuft while you sought surplus purple for a gamay garment Your geyser always shared in prescription store aisles while...
Duncan's Introductions at the Poetry Center, San Francisco State University
Foreword Robert Duncan and Jess Collins lived at Banabulfar on the northwest coast of Mallorca from March 1955 to March 1956. They made one trip to continental Europe; in December 1955 they went to Paris, where Duncan wrote the final poem of the...
Easter 1912 and Christmas 1929: Blaise Cendrars and Garcia Lorca in New York (a Second Take)
What lengths what loops. In 1912 and good enough. In 1929. At Easter first, at Paques. And then a good right hand and arm blown off the shoulder at the Battle of the Marne. And after 1930, the Falange. But Easter first, but Christmas next again. A...
Notes to Chris concerning Household Conduct While I Am Away in Buenos Aires
Remember the remote controls nothing that you really want or need. Go to a movie instead or eat some custard. Both are far, but you can walk. Don't mind the little sand showers that fall in the hearth sometimes. It only means that ambulances are...
Other
There are no others. There only was the one. Well of course there were others, but they were different, they didn't compare, they were a whole different league, a whole different ball game. The others came only later. After one could walk again...
Pages from a Book of Years (Part Two)
Part Two I America First or Lend-Lease. 1941. The Christmas holidays at last and New Year's Eve. How to measure now and then and now again and in the mind or then as now for all of them in kin & kind. And how conceive. How to parse...
Robert Duncan: The Ambassador from Venus
I. The Antediluvian World I would shake the Mahjong table, and the palace of many gardens and courts, the majestic halls and ramparts, constructed by giant hands from another world, the corridor where the Queen walked in the evening to meet the...
Truluv the Sailor
le dernier couac du Rabbi Tarfon There is some way the world is and also Some way the inner world, fierce female visitor By night, is, who beats the ground and cries out Aicha, aicha. I myself have heard her, And do still hear her, cry the name...
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