Tag Archives: Jordan Potter

Getty Quarantine

Even now they keep their curated distances— a sitting male nude, studies of mourning women, the deposition from the cross— found again in that same silence they were raised and decided, blood from shadows. World wars had not undone them. … Continue reading

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Nemo poëta

And in short, I was afraid —Prufrock I had tasted them all. The low offerings that dangled over fences like a truce: in spring, the soft avocados, the shameless mango, naked as a crime, in summer, the loveless opal and … Continue reading

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The New Dead

What do we do with them now, these new dead? Where do we put them? How can we keep them company in the remaining earth, too full already with our living— Christ, with our dead? How do we launch their … Continue reading

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