Tag: apples

John’s Apples

Electric Text
Electric Text
John’s Apples







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In this episode John tells a story about the apple trees he found in Ithaca, while he was researching Liberty Hyde Bailey this summer.
He shared it during the recording session in which John, Chad, and Kim discussed the archive.
The story didn’t fit into the Archives 1 podcast, but we loved it so much, we made it into a bonus track.

John kept a blog during his summer in the archives. You can read it here: https://medium.com/@johnlinstrom.

Drugs

“Anyway it worked because Charlie actually managed to marry twice, (probably someone with nursing ambitions), which just goes to show that there’s a lid for every pot. Sometimes there are as many as nine lids for the same pot. Also when I was a teenager I could buy pot in lids. But I don’t think you can anymore . . . can you?”

(Carrie Fisher, Wishful Drinking, New York: Simon and Schuster, 2012. p 44-45)

 

Recuerdo

Edna St. Vincent Millay

We were very tired, we were very merry—
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.
It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable—
But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table,
We lay on a hill-top underneath the moon;
And the whistles kept blowing, and the dawn came soon.

We were very tired, we were very merry—
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry;
And you ate an apple, and I ate a pear,
From a dozen of each we had bought somewhere;
And the sky went wan, and the wind came cold,
And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold.

We were very tired, we were very merry,
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.
We hailed, “Good morrow, mother!” to a shawl-covered head,
And bought a morning paper, which neither of us read;
And she wept, “God bless you!” for the apples and pears,
And we gave her all our money but our subway fares.
(Published in Poetry magazine in May 1919)

 

The Emperor of Ice-Cream

Wallace Stevens

Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month’s newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

 

(published in Steven’s first book Harmonium by Vintage Books in 1923)

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