Contributors

Robert Creeley
Contributor History

Biography
Robert Creeley (1926–2005) was one of the great poets of the twentieth century. Caves (Paradigm Press) was published in early 2005 in a limited edition. Other works include Earth, a collection of his last poems which was published by the University of California postmortem, as well as an essay Whitman in Age. In 2005, Conjunctions published memorial tributes to Creeley by nearly one hundred fellow writers in its online edition.  

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In Print

Vol. 82
Works & Days
Spring 2024
Bradford Morrow

Online

May 29, 2024
A tree stump, leg’s length, scorched black. Dragging slowly through snow sand so as not to take down any of the edges. The grains leave a fine film on the hand. One of several wood pieces to help prop up the broken end of the vessel for repair. I am stranded, marooned, run aground. Struck from the sky by something unseen in the night. How I might attempt to lift the vessel onto the stumps by myself remains to be seen. I have been hauling the dead remains of trees to the site for days. Behind me always, a perfect trail of depressed sand snow snaking into the distance. The wind is merciless so there is no evidence of my circuitous journey. With each step, each push of the log, a gust comes and smooths everything away.
May 22, 2024
Now that the bumblebees are sounding in the yard, sprint to the garden store in your tank top with your poodle as if there is a headwind. Stub a toe. Hear the tick of the clock as you place your items on the trolley: a new houseplant, two and three: a philodendron since you already have a few and they grow so nicely. Pay for mulch. Get some stones while you’re at it. Some daisies for the back. Black-eyed Susans too.
May 15, 2024
The boy watches me tend the fry pan. First of November in a warm year. I was an old man this morning. Now it is night and I am still an old man. The good stink of hot fried whitefish rises in the kitchen and oak leaves have fallen, painted the hill red. I am an old man because my body does not move fast. I am an old man because I have seen change that is large enough to fit inside my body. The change I have seen is like a bent stick I have swallowed. It sits inside my chest. It might make a hole in something soon.