Poem: ‘1 x 30’
Anne Carson, 5 March 2020
Once, once somehow I lost both of them, a man was saying as he came out of the elevator that morning. He was alone. He flicked his eyes on me, off me. He had a furtive tinge and a swank black overcoat – I thought at once of Joseph Conrad, as he is in formal photographs, with the not-quite-Western eyes and virtuosic goatee.
Once I attended a christening at a farmhouse in a country far...