Poets House, a national archive in Manhattan of 50,000 volumes of poetry, will host a celebration next Thursday evening of the life of Siv Cedering, a Swedish-born poet who spent much of her adult life on the East End.
The current state of the United States maddens Ted Rall, and in his most recent book, which touches on such problems as income inequality, political hypocrisy, crony capitalism, he seeks to enrage his readers. And he does, but not perhaps in the way he intends.
It’s a Book, It’s a Periodical . . .
No, it’s the new Southampton Review, volume VI, number 2, summer 2012, 232 pages, retailing for 15 bucks and coming to you fresh and glossily printed courtesy of Stony...
“Killing the Messenger”
On Aug. 2, 2007, a 19-year-old male wielding a handheld shotgun killed the editor of The Oakland Post, a small, free, weekly newspaper in California. The killer had...
With his back to the dunes,
Harry reclines, his still-toned legs
Crossed at the ankles,
On a foot-rested beach chair,
Watching, on a laptop
Balanced on his hard-won abs,
An economist interviewed
On a book talk.
Offshore, roused by the...
There have been several exhibitions and related events surrounding the 100th anniversary of Jackson Pollock’s birth in January. While not a cause for celebration, the anniversary of his storied death just passed on...
Robert A. Caro, besides being perhaps the country’s pre-eminent biographer, is one of the main cogs in the fund-raising machine that is the East Hampton Library’s Authors Night, which, as is detailed elsewhere on this very...
The eighth annual Authors Night, a cocktail party and book signing to benefit the East Hampton Library, will take place on Saturday from 5 to 7:30 p.m. The authors reception will be followed by 25 dinner parties held at private houses...
The Feminist Press, which is based at the City University of New York, is staging two cocktail parties on the South Fork this summer to introduce some of its recently published writers and to raise money.
August, I walk this shore in search of wholeness
among snapped razor clams and footless quahogs.
How easily my palm cradles a moon shell
coughed up on shore. I stroke the fragments
as, last night, I stroked your arm
smelling of salt,...