Beautiful Schumann on the speakers, beautiful platonic
Clara Schumann behind the scenes, doyenne,
muse of the late quartets, sleeping perhaps with Brahms,
all that madness and grief. How quickly we are lost
in these petty names—you and I, he and she.
Now we try to find the German word for it
in a tangle of leaves, in his garden apartment
above the Spree. And you, that old you
to whom I used to speak, you will be married,
you will become a stranger to me,
a little sunlight, a little Turkish wine in a glass,
ceramic doves on the sill of your street.
The Algerian. Her killing smile. Will she last?
The impasto of trees annihilates so greenly, so fast.
TODAY IN SLATE
Justice Ginsburg’s Crucial Dissent in the Texas Voter ID Case
The Jarring Experience of Watching White Americans Speak Frankly About Race
How Facebook’s New Feature Could Come in Handy During a Disaster
The Most Ingenious Teaching Device Ever Invented
Sprawl, Decadence, and Environmental Ruin in Nevada
You Should Be Able to Sell Your Kidney
Or at least trade it for something.
- Texas Lab Worker on Cruise Tests Negative for Ebola as Dallas Hospital Apologizes
- Police Use Tear Gas to Break Up College Pumpkin Festival Turned Violent
- Racist Rancher Cliven Bundy Challenges Eric Holder in Bizarre Campaign Ad
- Supreme Court Allows Texas Law That Accepts Handgun Permits but not College IDs to Vote
An All-Female Mission to Mars
As a NASA guinea pig, I verified that women would be cheaper to launch than men.