New York Pastoral: Sitting Outside and Inside With Eileen Myles
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Sitting outside in America is an Eileen Myles pursuit. Every time I do it I think of an Eileen Myles poem—from throwing open “all the doors in my home” because “There’s a pulse outside I want to hear” in “Immanence” (Maxfield Parrish, 1995) to the “fat little Buddha” in the yard in “Sweet Heart” (evolution, 2018), ice cracking as the poet pours coke—decidedly not Fresca—into a glass (I, a Brit, once had to get them to explain Fresca to
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