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The fall

Could be verse: poetry ripped from the headlines

By JAMES PARKER | August 15, 2007

Lines upon the arrest of a Catholic priest in Frederick, Colorado, for jogging in the nude before sunrise

Sweat breaks across my bosom like the dawn.
I trundle through the empty gates of morning
Free and redeemed and brimming with God’s love.
All heaven is my jockstrap, officer.

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ARTICLES BY JAMES PARKER

BIPOLAR BABIES: LEONARD COHEN AND ROD STEWART IN MISERY AND DELIGHT | December 05, 2012
"Every night and every morn," wrote William Blake one afternoon in 1803, "some to misery are born."

FINDING OUT WHAT MAKES THE MEAT PUPPETS TICK WITH A NEW ORAL HISTORY | May 30, 2012
As half-assed a form as it can be, the rock-band oral history is a folk form nonetheless, with a great claim to authenticity.

THEY AIN'T HEAVY, THEY'RE THE KIRKWOOD BROTHERS | May 31, 2012
Finding out what makes the Meat Puppets tick with a new oral history

GETTING TO KNOW PHILIP LARKIN WITH A NEW EDITION OF HIS POEMS | April 26, 2012
"A smash of glass and a rumble of boots/Electric trains and a ripped-up phonebooth/Paint-spattered walls and the cry of a tomcat/Lights going out, and a kick in the balls." These lines are not by Philip Larkin, of course — they're by Paul Weller.

BLACK SABBATH ARE BACK — IN PRINT AND ON FILM | November 14, 2011
The literature on Black Sabbath — already extensive — will continue to grow, as we try, try, try again to wrap our poor noggins around the irreducibly cosmic fact of this band.