I really enjoyed Philip Schultz’ poem in The New Yorker a couple of issues ago. I’m not going to excerpt it here; poetry is right with classical dance as the most vulnerable art form and I would feel bad if I didn’t steer traffic their way.
Part of me just liked the witty turns of phrase, but I also appreciated the courage of a poet writing on the technology that we have come to live with, and the effects of that technology on our soul.