Better Lies

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Wednesday, June 16, 2021

Bloomsday; Dad's obituary; 18 years without Pep

 Dad's obituary was published in the Boston Globe today, as I requested, so that I could also remember Pep, who died 18 years ago. 

There's a page set up for him at Bartlett Funeral Home, who took his body to Harvard, and Globe has another site on Legacy. It's the same obituary.

Legacy site

When Harvard is done, three years from now, his remains will be buried at the family plot in Mount Auburn Cemetery, a very beautiful place to rest.

Fair winds and following seas, Pa.



Wednesday, August 19, 2020

Sunday, August 2, 2020

The View from Olympia Anthology



Thrilled to have a poem of mine included in this Olympic anthology, alongside many
wonderful poets and friends. I especially love sharing the page with Carole Bromley.

This was also my very first launch event, thanks to zoom and the pandemic, and it was also a thrill to read and to listen.
Thank you to Joe Williams and to Half Moon Books!


Thursday, July 16, 2020

Tuttle Publishing's first Translator Interview


 Interview                          




Tuttle Publishing has interviewed me for their blog. Their first translator interview. Click here to go read it!

Also, read the books. They're fun, informative, and good for your mental health!


Friday, June 19, 2020

New Translation: Forest Bathing









My latest translation, Forest Bathing is out this month from Tuttle Publishing, a fantastic book for the times.
Take a soothing walk in the woods. Breathe. Hug a tree. Listen.

Friday, April 24, 2020

24 April 2020 (22 years later)

April 24, 2020
                      For Pep, 22 years later

You tried to steal all of my holidays:
your birthday, just days before mine;
Bloomsday forever the anniversary
of your death. Somehow, until today,
Sant Jordi had escaped. Never a holiday – 
none of mine ever were – World Book Day
is now a thing, but then Sant Jordi was mine
by adoption – count the books in my house
dated April 23rd – and yours by birth: 
Barcelona being the only thing we had
in common when we succumbed to the thrill
of the first kiss, to the knowledge that we had
arrived at our shared doorstep, our first day
of blind choices, so glaringly obvious
in hindsight.

Those six books, because you made it
to a sixth, line the shelf by our bed, the bed
I haven’t slept in since February, since
travelling home to see our daughter fence
and being trapped by this pandemic. Trapped
at home, not home. In a house I never grew up in,
with a father I barely recognize, far from all
those books, from all those Sant Jordis
on my own, with my girls, with you, without you,
on my own.

Here at my home not home I have nothing to hand
which your hand touched, no inscription, no dates,
no declarations of love. This is my seventeenth
Sant Jordi without you, though you never took it
away. It has taken a pandemic. So now, instead
of Sant Jordi, instead of streets full of books and
young people hawking roses, instead of exhaustion
from kilometers shuffled among human currents
flowing past author signings, spending too much
money, weighted by books I will never finish, I am
quarantined, confined. the first Sant Jordi I have
missed. The first Sant Jordi I have spent
just missing you.

kc 23 April 2020
143

Saturday, April 18, 2020

Two Translated Books: #TuttlePublishing and #NórdicaLibros

Although I have linked these books on my Professional Page, I thought I'd give them space here as well.
Thanks to Tuttle Publishing and to Nórdica Libros for trusting me with these wonderful illustrated books.


     
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