Mark Strand dies – Pulitzer winning poet laureate .<\/a>.( Born in Prince Edward’s Islands, Canada, initially he studied art.) <\/p>\n The Remains What good does it do? The hours have done their job. My parents rise out of their thrones Mark Stand\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Read his poem “The End” (poetry foundation)<\/a> <\/p>\n Wallace Shawn interviewed Mark Strand <\/a>(Paris Review) <\/p>\n EATING POETRY<\/p>\n Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. The librarian does not believe what she sees. The poems are gone. Their eyeballs roll, She does not understand. I am a new man, (Jim Bauerlein’s favorite poem<\/a> thanks..) <\/p>\n![\"1btractors\"](\"http:\/\/www.mutanteggplant.com\/vitro-nasu\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/11\/1btractors-e1417293082809.jpg\")
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\nUntitled photo collage by Fung Lin Hall <\/p>\n
\nI empty myself of the names of others. I empty my pockets.
\nI empty my shoes and leave them beside the road.
\nAt night I turn back the clocks;
\nI open the family album and look at myself as a boy.<\/p>\n
\nI say my own name. I say goodbye.
\nThe words follow each other downwind.
\nI love my wife but send her away.<\/p>\n
\ninto the milky rooms of clouds. How can I sing?
\nTime tells me what I am. I change and I am the same.
\nI empty myself of my life and my life remains. <\/p>\n
\nThere is no happiness like mine.
\nI have been eating poetry.<\/p>\n
\nHer eyes are sad
\nand she walks with her hands in her dress.<\/p>\n
\nThe light is dim.
\nThe dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.<\/p>\n
\ntheir blond legs burn like brush.
\nThe poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.<\/p>\n
\nWhen I get on my knees and lick her hand,
\nshe screams.<\/p>\n
\nI snarl at her and bark,
\nI romp with joy in the bookish dark.
\nMark Strand <\/p><\/blockquote>\n