Poetry Place Seminar Poems
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Reflections on Walter Benjamin The Angel of History collects the detritus Of our lives at its feet, forever facing past. Its wings flutter, propelling it into the future While it sees, as flaneur, endless mirrored spaces. Your Paris arcades, those enclosed passageways Multiply velvet surfaces in their reflections. 
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Knack (For Sylvia Plath / Hughes) I will never clear my debt to you. In every syllable I choose, each sound repetition that isn't quite, An occasional missed iamb, I hear your influence. In Yiddish even I can't escape your knack with language. I build a verter-bukh – a set of fevers, bees, mirrored lives,
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Enchanté And you smiled. And we were somehow closer. Enchanté That the French you speak would flow from my tongue so easily! I leaned in. You intrigue me. Vous me fascinez. Je desirais – I was wishing I knew all the subtleties Of the words, or if I remembered – si je souvenais... And you smiled. And we were somehow closer. Enchanté
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