“She was not patient. She was not kind. Edna was not the neighbor ready with a warm welcome when we bought the house on Harrison Street next door to hers.”
“We do what we are supposed to do, walk the stage, say our lines. But the reality is that, even if we hit our marks, many of our patients will not survive.”
With both the highly anticipated arrival of Blake Bailey’s Philip Roth biography and what’s transpired since, it’s harder to know what to think—about either subject.
April is National Poetry Month. To celebrate, we’re collecting poems and writings about poetry, with new additions by our literary critic every Friday.
