Room Service
Ted Kooser
Through the open door of the room across from mine
I saw a woman unmaking a bed. She looked bone-weary

as she hauled in the bleached, empty net of a sheet,
heaping it, rank from the depths, at her feet. Another night

had slipped through that seine and swum on, and no one
had been there to see those naked creatures, fish-belly white,

as they rose through layers of dream to lip at the dark,
to effortlessly fin in and out of the netting, and then

to be gone, with a last flash, away into the morning,
leaving no more than their faint, briny smell in her hands.
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The judges for the inaugural National Book Award for poetry meet in the offices of the Book Publishers Council. Pictured (from l. to r.) are Louise Bogan, Louis Untermeyer, Horace Gregory, Babette Deutsch, and W.H. Auden.
"Looking Back at 75 Years of the National Book Awards"

"This year, the National Book Foundation celebrated the 75th anniversary of the National Book Awards. The modern incarnation of the awards was launched in 1950 by the American Book Publishers Council, the American Booksellers Association, and the Book Manufacturers Institute, after a seven-year initial run under the ABA alone that began in 1936. Since then, the awards have been, for the better part of a century, among the most coveted and prestigious prizes in American literature—comprising, alongside the National Book Critics Circle Awards and the Pulitzer Prizes, what some have called the U.S.’s 'literary triple crown.'"

viaPUBLISHER'S WEEKLY
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Color cover image of Mary-Alice Daniel's book, Mass for Shut-Ins
What Sparks Poetry:
Mary-Alice Daniel on Object Lessons

"Science is one language articulating the esoteric fabric of spacetime. Verse is another valence. Astrophysics and poetry pair prettily. Both concern themselves with the behavior and spectacle of celestial bodies; with the margins of massive matters alongside the infinitesimal; the inconceivable infinite. Dreamers in the two disciplines speculate alternate & extra dimensions. We enlist anomaly. We trouble in stasis. We peer into—across—the reality tunnel: the entangled expanse between what you see and I perceive."
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