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| GARRISON KEILLOR |
| The Art of Humor No. 1 |
| 92nd St. Y, December 2000. |
| Looking out of a railway window and seeing an industrial landscape, factories, slag heaps, and that kind of thing, and the line coming into my head: 'A language of flesh and roses...' |
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| JACK KEROUAC |
| "The Mexican Girl" |
| Read by Josh Hamilton |
| SummerStage, August 2003. |
| I had bought my ticket and was waiting for the L.A. bus when all of a sudden I saw the cutest little Mexican girl in slacks come cutting across my sight. . . . |
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| GALWAY KINNELL |
| "Another Night in the Ruins" and other poems |
| Salon, April 2001. |
In the evening
haze darkening on the hills,
purple
of the eternal, a last bird
crosses over, 'flop, flop'
adoring
only the instant… |
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| MARY KINZIE |
| "The Water-brooks" |
| Read by Billy Collins |
| PEN World Voices Festival, April 2007. |
Lyke as the hart desireth the water-brooks
the psalmist wrote
through the clear cadences of Miles Coverdale
So longeth my soul after thee
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| ADAM KIRSCH |
| Two Poems |
| Salon, November 2001. |
Our pilgrim's progress is reported in fits and starts
as he makes his way in a hot-air balloon toward Valparaiso… |
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| NICOLE KRAUSS |
| Two Poems |
| Salon, June 2001. |
Our pilgrim's progress is reported in fits and starts
as he makes his way in a hot-air balloon toward Valparaiso… |
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| DANIEL KUNITZ |
| "Geniza" |
| Salon, April 2001. |
In which members of a synagogue
entomb virtually every piece of the
community's writing to avoid
desecrating God's name… |
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| JOHN LE CARRE |
| The Art of Fiction No. 149 |
| 92nd St. Y, October 1995. |
| I entered the secret world when I was very young. I kind of lurched into it. There never really seemed an alternative to it. |
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| NORMAN MAILER |
| Norman Mailer and Philip Gourevitch at the 2007 Spring Revel |
| Spring Revel, April 2007. |
| Histories are put together of rotten bricks; and novels are written by cementing straws together, filaments. |
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| RICHARD MATTHEWS |
| "Cavafy Suite" |
| Salon, June 2001. |
With no consideration, pity or shame,
they built their walls around me, thick and high… |
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| J. D. MCCLATCHY |
| "Proust in Bed" |
| Salon, November 2002. |
Through the peephole he could see a boy
Playing patience on the huge crimson sofa… |
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| J. D. MCCLATCHY |
| "Tattoos" |
| Salon, November 2002. |
Pissed on mai tais, what harm
Could come from the bright slate
Of flashes on the scratcher's corridor
Wall, or the swagger of esprit de corps?… |
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| JULIE ORRINGER |
| "Note to Sixth-Grade Self" |
| Read by Peter Dinklage |
| SummerStage, August 2003. |
| For now, though, you live in this world, so go ahead and follow the others across the street… |
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| KATHLEEN OSSIP |
| "Eight Rants" |
| Salon, November 2002. |
Venus is rising. She's muttering,
A sober chick is a sullen trick.
When it comes to bliss, I dream it;
you live it… |
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