Word: poem
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...drunk and hook up with guests, because of the preponderance of cousins. In some ways, though, your mom's wedding is better. When a friend asks you to recite something at the service, you can't say no. But when your mom asks the family to read a poem, you can get out of it by persuading your little sister to say she's afraid of public speaking. At first I wasn't sure exactly why reading at the ceremony seemed so dreadful. Then she showed me the poem. It turned out my fear had to do with the fact...
Hollander's emphasis on social practice, however, does not mean that her approach is sociological. She is interested in aesthetics, not economics, envisioning fashion as an extraordinarily democratic art, and every clothed body as a poem. She speaks of fashion as literature, "a sequence of costumes illustrating a narrative of inward events" and everyone who gets dressed in the morning as an author, which is not to say that all are equally skilled; while geishas may be "advanced poets of dress," most of us are hacks or worse...
Most critics run on gas and sass. Jarrell, the poet, novelist, children's book author--what didn't he do, and do beautifully?--was a tireless lover of language. He fell in love (and in hate) with the poem or book under review, bringing it alive even as he anatomized it. These essays, selected by Brad Leithauser, open the reader to the Morgan Library of Jarrell's mind, ablaze with a sensible passion and aphoristic wit. "The people who live in a Golden Age," he wrote, "usually go around complaining how yellow everything looks." When Jarrell died in 1965, criticism...
...that can help kids overcome barriers to learning must be measured in more than dollars. "Boy, if you can increase the confidence of students in their own ability, you can affect a change in their lives," says Kleyn. Back in New Jersey, Nicole Davis might want to write a poem about that...
...poor home, and his limited language skills made for low grades. But last fall, six student tutors from the U.C. Irvine English program came to his fourth-grade classroom. The teacher, Marisol Duarte, saw only subtle changes at first. But two months later, when the kids wrote their final poems of the term, Raynaldo's reading had jumped from first- to third-grade level. And his poem had the glow of a prayer: "...the beauty of the hand of God/never let go of my mother and father/of the silver night/of the city so quiet and the birds singing like diamonds...