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Sanford Fraser: The Poet Laureate of Jones Street » 2013 » February

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The Poet Laureate of Jones Street. The Poetry and Musings of Sanford Fraser. Someone next-door is playing the piano. Practicing The Graduation March. The notes, sure of themselves at first. Suddenly begin to stumble, forget. Where they’re going, turn back. The words, sure of themselves, at first…. 8230;…………………………. Quelqu’un à côté joue du piano. Répète la Marche de Fin d’Année. Les notes, sûres d’elles au début. Soudain se mettent à trébucher, ne savent plus. Où elles vont, font demi-tour. Invisible Men ...

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Sanford Fraser: The Poet Laureate of Jones Street » Video

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The Poet Laureate of Jones Street. The Poetry and Musings of Sanford Fraser. Cornelia Street Café Reading, July 5, 2010. 1 Comment ». On January 4th, 2015. Book Reviews: Among Strangers… / Critiques de Parmi Les Etrangers…. Book Reviews: Tourist Critiques de Touriste. Poems in Spanish & English from CLARIN website. Chapbook: 14th Street/14ème Rue. You can listen to many of the poems in English or French by clicking the icon below the text. Bob cooley, photographer. Nicolas Vasse, Poète.

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Sanford Fraser: The Poet Laureate of Jones Street » Blog Archive » Duet / Duo

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The Poet Laureate of Jones Street. The Poetry and Musings of Sanford Fraser. Someone next-door is playing the piano. Practicing The Graduation March. The notes, sure of themselves at first. Suddenly begin to stumble, forget. Where they’re going, turn back. My words, sure of themselves — at first. 8230;…………………………. Quelqu’un à côté joue du piano. Répète la Marche de Fin d’Année. Les notes, sûres d’elles au début. Soudain se mettent à trébucher, ne savent plus. Où elles vont, font demi-tour.

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Sanford Fraser: The Poet Laureate of Jones Street » Book Reviews: Tourist Critiques de Touriste

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The Poet Laureate of Jones Street. The Poetry and Musings of Sanford Fraser. Book Reviews: Tourist Critiques de Touriste. Djelloul Marbrook, poet, essayist, novelist. A tourist with no fixed plans. Tourist, Sanford Fraser, New York Quarterly Books, 73pp]. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what to say. For example, a medieval Arab poet describes the Quadalquiver as a white hand opening a green robe. The image is so refined, so apt that one can’t imagine the river being described in any other way&#46...

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Sanford Fraser: The Poet Laureate of Jones Street » Chapbook: 14th Street/14ème Rue

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The Poet Laureate of Jones Street. The Poetry and Musings of Sanford Fraser. 14th Street Chapbook / 14ème Rue Chapbook. A stabbing on the morning news. Sinks into my mind. I slam my face shut. In the loud street. Sidewalk vendors shout hot specials. Silks bright as neon. Neckchains all solid gold. Even toy birds circle me. And beneath my feet. The subway yells its long, black sky. Blue hair, cerulean blue. She mumbles “I hate you”. Her head butting the air. As if someone were there. An old man stoops.

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Sanford Fraser: The Poet Laureate of Jones Street » 2014 » January

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The Poet Laureate of Jones Street. The Poetry and Musings of Sanford Fraser. Off Balance / Déséquilibré. Your legs want to curl up and. A quiet Sunday afternoon. You want to look around. Think of something else —. Ignore the people approaching. Feel the pavement through your legs and feet. One step at a time, looking for faults. Like a blind man’s cane. All of you in legs and feet. 8230;…………………………………………. Tes jambes voudraient se replier. Tu avances en trébuchant. Ce paisible dimanche après-midi. Des sein...

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Sanford Fraser: The Poet Laureate of Jones Street » Blog Archive » Invisible / Invisible

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The Poet Laureate of Jones Street. The Poetry and Musings of Sanford Fraser. No one hears you. From the street, the click. Of your footsteps walks. Your laughter skips through. The hum of my window fan. I can’t stop thinking of you. 8230;………………. Personne ne te voit. De la rue, le clic-clac. De tes pas pénètre. À travers la conduite d’air. Ton rire sautille dans. Le bourdon de mon ventilateur . Je ne peux cesser de penser à toi. Traduction, Françoise Parouty. 1 Comment ». On January 1st, 2014.

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Sanford Fraser: The Poet Laureate of Jones Street » Blog Archive » Snow again

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The Poet Laureate of Jones Street. The Poetry and Musings of Sanford Fraser. Cold, frigid, so beautiful. Pure and — distant. Here and not here. Your street, a blank white page. Empty, full of nothing. Its open mouth waiting. For words to chew. 8230;………………………………. Il neige à nouveau. La neige tôt l’après-midi. Froide, glaciale, si belle. Si pure et si lointaine. Ici et pas là. La rue, une page blanche. Vide, remplie de rien. La bouche ouverte, avide. De mots à dévorer. 2015 Traduction, Françoise Parouty.

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Sanford Fraser: The Poet Laureate of Jones Street » Blog Archive » Without subtitles / En version originale

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The Poet Laureate of Jones Street. The Poetry and Musings of Sanford Fraser. Without subtitles / En version originale. I’m lost, the film meaningless. My school French not enough. To stay afloat on the stream. Of strange sounds, bubbling,. Popping, swirling past —. A familiar word bumps into me. I hang onto it, waiting for more. Each one a stone, a step to something. I don’t know I know. Je suis perdu, le film n’a pas de sens. Mon français d’école (ou scolaire) ne suffit pas. Me percute (ou me frappe).

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Sanford Fraser: The Poet Laureate of Jones Street

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The Poet Laureate of Jones Street. The Poetry and Musings of Sanford Fraser. Smoldering / Le feu sous la cendre. I don’t know what to say. I’m still with you on the train. I rode as a teenager, expecting. You to step on my words, hold them. Down, and crush the life out of them. I don’t know where we are going. The houses along the track look familiar. They race by while I sit here, frozen —. A face without a voice looking out,. The track clicking like a clock. 8230;……………. Le feu sous la cendre. In your p...