Wednesday, October 03, 2007


Dargan and Weiner at Sunday Kind of Love October 21

Joshua Weiner
Kyle Dargan

Scroll down for poems!

Sunday Kind of Love: A Busboys & Poetry Event

Reading by Kyle Dargan and Joshua Weiner
Sunday, October 21, 2007, 4-6 pm

Open mic following the feature.
Hosted by Sarah Browning, DC Poets Against the War, and Regie Cabico, Sol & Soul

Busboys & Poets14th & V Streets, NWWashington, DCU Street/Cardozo on the Metro green lineWheelchair accessibleFree and open to the publicFor more info: 202-387-POET, womenarts2 (at) aol (dot) com

Kyle G. Dargan’s second collection of poems, Bouquet of Hungers, has just been released by the University of Georgia Press. He is the managing editor of Callaloo and a member of the creative writing MFA faculty at American University. His debut collection of poems, The Listening, won the 2003 Cave Canem Prize, and he has received fellowships from the Bucknell Seminar for Younger Poets, Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, and The Fine Arts Work Center.

Joshua Weiner is the author of two books of poetry, From the Book of Giants and The World’s Room, both from the University of Chicago Press. He is a winner of a Whiting Writers’ Award and the Rome Prize from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, and assistant professor of English at the University of Maryland.


The glass bottom poem
floats on poured stone
surfaces. The windows
set in its belly
show you nothing—
no arks, ancient relics,
or species paved over. No
more reason to bury here.
People are smallest
shadows of the city. The city
realizes the city and must
forget itself to the ground
to dream its hereafter,
sparkling. See the Pipes
of Yesterday—that is all
the poem can offer.
If you must see ruin, glance
around then step out quickly.
Remember, resole your feet
with the largest notes you carry
lest you disturb the city’s
voracious slumber.

by Kyle Dargan


Found Letter

What makes for a happier life, Josh, comes to this:
Gifts freely given, that you never earned;
Open affection with your wife and kids;
Clear pipes in winter, in summer screens that fit;
Few days in court, with little consequence;
A quiet mind, a strong body, short hours
In the office; close friends who speak the truth;
Good food, cooked simply; a memory that's rich
Enough to build the future with; a bed
In which to love, read, dream, and re-imagine love;
A warm, dry field for laying down in sleep,
And sleep to trim the long night coming;
Knowledge of who you are, the wish to be
None other; freedom to forget the time;
To know the soul exceeds where it's confined
Yet does not seek the terms of its release,
Like a child's kite catching at the wind
That flies because the hand holds tight the line.

- Joshua Weiner

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