Fall 2007
Class war, it seems, has burst into the open at The Wall Street Journal. Nothing new in actuality, of course, since it has long served as the official voice of industrial capitalists and the most right-wing segments of finance capital. But this summer’s episode with Rupert Murdoch nicely served as a humorous reminder of just what is meant by "integrity" by the idle rich — receiving the highest price....Read Article
My first encounter with Molly Peacock was in the majestic nave of The Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine, where I was an audience member attending her one-person show, "The Shimmering Verge." Like an urban apparition, Molly appeared from the cavernous darkness on a thrust stage, bathed by spotlights of pastel hues and clad in effulgent cloth. She captivated us with her indefatigable poetic spirit and gave us a poignant and rhapsodic evening. I had read several of Molly‘s poems—cleverly woven into this performance—from literary journals and from her own books of poetry. I admired most her impeccable craftsmanship and elastic playfulness with language and form. But on this theatrical occasion, I didn‘t visualize the nut-and-bolts of structured verse, such as deliberate punctuation, or line breaks of lilting quatrains sprinkled with wry humor. Instead, the words flowed with a seamless through line, transforming the text into a dazzling self-portrait of a master poet, one who has been teaching and writing poetry her entire adult life....Read Article