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The pentagon is a drop of amber
In which is preserved the animal mind
Of all the hunts, in all those nights of dead weather
When up from the silence there arose the
Cry of the kill. To progress beyond the
Need to fill our silences with these idiot carcasses.
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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.