Editor’s Note
February: yes, readers, the shortest month, and in acknowledgment of or rather aligning with such I want to offer today the briefest of these editorial missives on record. Not altogether coincidentally my note this time begins with a passage from last month’s fine Featured Selection of Bill Knott’s work, most ably introduced by Tom Lux. I’m sure this is the
Editor’s Note
January: and as I write tonight, mid- December, winter or what passes for such in Florida. Far ahead of schedule on this Editor’s Note, for I want to have the issue behind me before heading to Louisville for the holidays. Although, really, I am already there, in a way, as I am, always. In the house I grew up in,
Editor’s Note
December: and once again I find my subject in that recent trip home to Louisville, freshened this time by a chance encounter with my ancient Master’s thesis, discovered in a storage bin at my mother’s home, as I hunted for something else. Its connection to Louisville: I wrote it in its entirety while I lived at the Tavner Apartments there,
Editor’s Note
November: and just back from a trip home to Louisville, where I met my cousin B—, come to visit my mother, out of the blue, on her birthday – 93! We had been close, B— and I, when we were children, in fact until we were teenagers: nearly the same age, their house one block over from ours. Thirty years
Editor’s Note
Readers: Welcome to Plume Issue # 63 – October: and, naturally enough, given this month’s Featured Selection on the work of the recently passed Max Ritvo, as I cast about for a theme for this note: thoughts of death, early. I imagined at first that I’d say something about Max’s consciousness of his impending departure and how that did
Editor’s Note
Readers: Welcome to Plume Issue # 62 – September: and you’ll be very happy to discover – no anecdotes from that miscreant youth of mine. In fact, just these few words by way of preface to the Featured Selection from Dore Kiesselbach, comprising his own introduction to a clutch of poems on the theme of events/experience of September 11th,
Editor’s Note
Readers: Welcome to Plume Issue # 61 – August: and as threatened, another anecdote from my miscreant youth – though not what I originally intended. Much shorter, you’ll be happy to learn. What follows is a result not of long planning but the serendipitous effect of reading, last evening, Phillippe Delerm’s La Premiére Gorgée De Biére, after which I
Editor’s Note
Readers: Welcome to Plume Issue # 60 – July: and I write tonight drenched in the news coverage of the death of Muhammad Ali — Ali, who, apparently, was always universally admired, no — adored, and never more so than in his, and my, hometown, Louisville, Kentucky. Where, by the way, he was met personally by every second
Editor’s Note
Readers: Welcome to Plume Issue # 59 – June: a most welcome intercession for many of us teachers, when we slip if only between pillar and post from one academic term to another — or for the more fortunate, a gateway month, opening onto the longer respite of a full summer on one’s own, unmolested by the requisites of
Editor’s Note
Readers: Welcome to Plume Issue # 58 – May: up early and feeling already…wistful for some reason as I ran this morning — perhaps the soundtrack I had selected, the old Blur LP Think Tank, Eno’s Another Green World – and following a different route than usual, it was as if it – that lurking nostalgia — had been
Editor’s Note
Readers: Welcome to Plume Issue # 57 – April. Brief, this time, thanks to my having been rather long-winded in my mediations on chess and intertwined birthday salutations to my brother M. last issue (and, thank you, all, for your kind words regarding that little missive). And so we begin rather than conclude with our cover art this month:
Editor’s Note
Readers: Welcome to Plume Issue # 56 – March: And I think of my brother, whose birthday is upcoming: sixty-six. Brilliant, kind beyond measure, forbearance incarnate, M. became ill at age 14 – schizophrenia. I have written here and there about him, always without success. Why this has been so, I’m not sure, for I am not
