Tod Marshall
NASA
Stranger Things
noise dept.
No title available
One Nice Bug Per Day
occasionally subtle
KIROKAZE
d e v o n

if i look back, i am lost
Sade Olutola
Jules of Nature
RMH
The Bowery Presents

izzy's playlists!

@theartofmadeline
h

blake kathryn

#extradirty
Misplaced Lens Cap
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@yespoetryeveryday
Tod Marshall
If we are all wandering around in the vestiges of courtly love, then desire is really the pursuit of finding a way to sustain desire rather than the capture of a love object. Love’s true object is absence.
Rachel Kushner, author of The Flamethrowers (via bombmagazine)
EAT YOUR WORDS: Vegetarian Lasagna for the Broke and Busy + Feng Sun Chen
Adapted from this roasted squash lasagna on Brooklyn Supper.
hey, you: you're busy as hell, so you should make yourself a nutritious, fancy feeling dinner you can eat all week and feel good about
You can make lasagne with basically anything. I am serious: frozen spinach? Rad. Sweet potatoes? Awesome (roast them first, ala squash original). Squash? What the food blog recommends. I made this with pureed pumpkin, because it is already soft and comes in a can. I tried it with sweet potatoes -- while roasting them you can just sort of ignore them for 45 minutes, which is awesome if you have shit to do at home -- but I liked the pumpkin even better. But if something else is in season and is your jam -- I can, for example, totally imagine a savoury fruit lasagna, but that's because I have a fruit problem, as in I will eat so many apples I feel sick the next day, and I know I will do this from experience; YES POETRY EVERYDAY never claimed to be a genius -- then you could probably either roast it or make it soft and squishy and mix it with ricotta and put it in a lasagne. Note: there is no photo of this lasagna (which is perhaps best for everyone because I have awful kitchen lighting and naught but a computer camera) because I ate all of it in record time.
YOU WILL NEED:
Lasagne noodles (or another pasta that will take up significant area. I officially promise you that no will judge you on whether or not you have actual lasagne, because no one gives a shit, not even/especially not your roommates)
2 cups + milk
1/2 cup to 2 cups heavy cream -- use what you got
up to 6 tablespoons butter or margarine
up to 1/3 cup flour
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1 can pureed pumpkin
2 - 4 tablespoons ricotta
salt and pepper to taste
oregano and basil, to taste
2 cups cheese you have on hand, grated -- recommended: mozzarella and parmesan (this is really the only expensive bit)
YOU WILL NEED TO:
Preheat your oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.
MAKE A BECHAMEL SAUCE. Don't let the name fool you: this ain't hard. Melt butter in the pan. When it's all melty and starting to get brown and smell really good, add the flour, bit by bit, whisking as you go. (No whisk? Fork or spoon will do.)
Slowly add the milk and cream, whisking as you go. Let the sauce thicken. Whisk occasionally. If it's not thickening, add a little more flour, tablespoon at a time. Once it's fairly thick but still fluid, take it off the burner and add nutmeg, salt and pepper. Done.
While you're making the bechamel, cook the pasta. Once it's just slightly al dente/you think it's done, take it off the burner and drain. Hit it with cool water in a colander if you can, so it stops cooking. Set aside.
PREPARE PUMPKIN by removing it from the can, putting it in a bowl, and mixing in ricotta. Season to taste if you want.
ASSEMBLE LASAGNA by greasing a baking pan. Coat the bottom of the pan with 1/4 of the bechamel sauce. Cover with noodles. Add 1/2 of the pumpkin, one third of the cheese, and another third of the sauce; cover with noodles. Repeat. On top of final layer of noodles, drizzle the last of the bechamel and grate a little cheese over it.
Cover your lasagna with foil and bake. After the 45 minute mark, uncover the lasagne. Bake for ten more minutes. Remove from oven. Congratulations! You have dinner for the next week.
Notes: YES POETRY EVERYDAY would like to note that if you want to impress your muse, this lasagna is a great, inexpensive way to do it. Tried and true, every time.
Serve warm with a simple salad, a poem that accidentally became sexual because you insisted on prolonging that one fruit image, "DUCK DUCK GOOSE" by Feng Sun Chen
Every day I am asked to care about white people, especially if they’ve been kidnapped or killed overseas or are experiencing marital problems in New England, on screens large & small. Any size. I am told American lives are in danger, American libidos.
In 2042, when white people become the...
hey, it's friday, so you check this poem by Sally Rosen Kindred, and then you should read everything else Tinderbox Poetry has to offer because it's great
this is one of my favorite stacey teague poems ever
it is in her book takahē
the day talks to the night, saying just what the ocean says to the land, what the blood is saying to the heart, contained, but coming, going.
Denis Johnson, closing lines to “The Two,” from Inner Weather (Graywolf Press, 1976)
Even Though I Don’t Miss You, Chelsea Martin
I want to laugh so that later I can get angry like I need to get. I want to make and think something funny and tender and kind so that I recognize the opposite when it comes for me, so that I can say ‘No’ to a corporation, so that I cannot buy what someone means to sell me. Poetry is so high stakes. Humor is wholly tied up in those stakes for me.
Wendy Xu, interviewed by Ben Seanor for Front Porch Journal (via bostonpoetryslam)
The first dead leaves lie like sea urchins browned on the asphalt erie. It’s got to be October, Slayer of living things, refrigerator of memory. Next to the wilted lettuce, next to the Simone Weil, Our lives are shoved in, barely visible, but still unspoiled.
Charles Wright, opening lines to “October, Mon Amour," Caribou: Poems (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2014)
Poetry Daily - A Featured Poem from the online poetry anthology and bookstore, featuring a new poem every day, and more.
Hey, you: it's monday, which means its back to the motherfucking grind, so you should maybe read these two poems by Mark Strand
Look, the trees are turning their own bodies into pillars of light, are giving off the rich fragrance of cinnamon and fulfillment, the long tapers of cattails are bursting and floating away over the blue shoulders of the ponds, and every pond, no matter what its name...
Doesn’t everyone want to feel in the night the beloved body, compass, polestar, to hear the quiet breathing that saysI am alive, that means also you are alive, because you hear me, you are here with me
Louise Glück, from “A Myth of Devotion” Averno (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2007)
No, I think it [contemporary British poetry] is in a bit of a strait-jacket, if I may say so. There was an essay by Alvarez, the British critic: his arguments about the dangers of gentility in England are very pertinent, very true. I must say that I am not very genteel and I feel that gentility has a stranglehold: the neatness, the wonderful tidiness, which is so evident everywhere in England is perhaps more dangerous than it would appear on the surface.
Sylvia Plath, in a 1962 interview with Peter Orr (source: University of Illinois)
I guess it boils down to confidence: that if I give myself over to form and trust in negative capability that I will be able to create these moments for my readers, as I trust the poets I love to do that for me. That is my hope, that we will always be open to the changes that poetry encourages us to make, no matter how bad the coffee or the traffic is.
Dan Chelotti, http://lareviewofbooks.org/interview/making-true-things-true-interview-dan-chelotti#