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A daunting map is all
We got, smudgy-ink’d in
Green relief. It lends airs
Of disbelief to our fever’d
Marginal lot. Books we read
Are the sort antiquarians recommend—
The frenzy of a zealot’s
End, the history of a social
Obligation, sexual exercise for sport.
Out the tent-flap door
One sees the piercing blue’d
Stretch of a lake obtrude.
An envoi reports ‘the way
Is mere wavering,’ unmark’d, and
Apt to sully souls used
To hours of senseless hammering.
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Poetry
in your carpeted office you lay my life down / and say open up to that small room in my sternum.
In his new book, the former Fed chair cuts through economic orthodoxy on central banking. But he fails to reckon deeply with its political consequences.
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