The Writer's Almanac
Each day, Garrison Keillor reads a poem and relates stories of significant events touching literary history.
Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and keep your accounts on your thumb nail … I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time. To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating. I love to be alone. I never... Read more »
from his friend’s house, where they were filming a movie starring my son in a love triangle. My son, fifteen, has never been in a love right angle, or even a love straight line, as far as I know. He stopped talking two years ago— to me, I mean. I got this secondhand from a... Read more »
We played a game called 4-Square With a lemon-yellow ball In the street after dinner. We kept awaiting a call From somebody’s parent, ordering us in, But (amazingly) no call came, The still-bright ball Went round, we went on with our game— Voices no doubt lifting To where the Dawkinses’ grandmother lay Winded by emphysema,... Read more »
The morning brought such a lashing rain I decided I might as well stay inside And tackle those jobs that had multiplied Like an old man’s minor aches and pains. I found a screw for the strikerplate, Tightened the handle on the bathroom door, Cleared the drain in the basement floor, And straightened the hinge... Read more »
Once there was a man who filmed his vacation. He went flying down the river in his boat with his video camera to his eye, making a moving picture of the moving river upon which his sleek boat moved swiftly toward the end of his vacation. He showed his vacation to his camera, which pictured... Read more »
During July on the prairie The pine tree stands alone on the main street Of a disintegrating country town. Its needles pump all day, Still it cannot turn all the passing carbon monoxide Into anything useful. On its trunk ants are stuck in the resin. From its top we can see the dark clouds In... Read more »