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July 15, 2010The Arsenal Building, Central ParkNew York, NYFrom the Academy Audio Archive

My Father and My Mother Decide My Future, and How Could We Forget Wang Wei?

Ken Chen

 

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Ken Chen

by this poet

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How joyous!, 
passing this time alone 
with your father, how bright his golden laugh 
which drew you to laugh yourself uncontrolled, 
how sweet the happy hour oysters you two pry and eat, 
piling wobbling shells that glisten on the table
while the pianist plays by the kitchen doors. 
You find yourself reminded
poem

Descartes in Love

Love, accepting that we are not pure and lucent hearts, ricocheting towards each other like unlatched stars—no, we are tainted with self. We sometimes believe the self is an invisible glass, just as we believe the body is a suit made of meat. Doubt all things invisible. Doubt all