Best and worst of times for Soon-Shiong
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Matt Potter 3:30 p.m., Nov. 20
Thomas Lux
Thomas Lux wrote cover features for the Reader from 1999 through 2009, whose subjects ranged from the Coronado bridge to a man who loves bugs. Lux, who was the Bourne Professor of Poetry at the Georgia Institute of Technology, was also the recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship and three National Endowment Fellowships in Poetry as well as the prestigious Kingsley Tufts Award.
Lux passed away in February 2017.
His photo is by Barnaby Hall.
Articles by Thomas Lux
I Think You’re Wonderful
I think you’re wonderful. I’m driving my car and your name is on every mailbox. I’m kissing you and my shoes crawl away in darkness, sweet gadgets sing in my wrists, the life I dumped ...
"Criss Cross Apple Sauce"
— for Claudia Criss cross apple sauce do me a favor and get lost while you’re at it drop dead then come back without a head my daughter sings for me when I ask her ...
Bless this crew of visionaries, joy-bringers, and nutcakes!
Before visiting San Diego's Zirk Ubu, the last time I'd gone to the circus, I'd walked out with 50 pounds of elephant dung in a cardboard box on my shoulder.
Tie This Guy Up, Make Sure He Stays at SDSU
From the land of poets
Odessa: it doesn’t sound like a particularly Russian word. Maybe Spanish, or Italian. Actually, it was named after Odysseus, the hero of Homer’s (if Homer existed) great epic poem, The Odyssey. Any word, when it ...
Too Many Passive Verbs
She cajoled me. She encouraged me. She got tough on my ass.
Judith Moore called me in the fall of 1995, when I was living temporarily in Laguna Beach and teaching at UC Irvine for a semester. Judith was familiar with my poems and deduced from some ...
Could I Be Hypnotized?
Look deep into Steve Piccus’s eyes.
Some people believe God to be the first hypnotist: He put Adam to sleep and took out a rib to make Eve. It's a leap, but today hypnotism is used as an alternative to anesthesia ...
Frozen Drama
KWest Taxidermy's Kevin Moreau is San Diego's waterfowl specialist.
“I could love a duck!” the American poet Theodore Roethke wrote hyperbolically, manically, in one of an astonishing series of longish poems usually referred to as “The Lost Son” poems. I’ve always liked ducks myself ...
Eat Fire
One thing I’ve learned: go looking for fire eaters and you don’t know what you’ll find. After putting out the word that I was looking for fire eaters (I have a few, um, unique friends ...
Three a.m.
There is no night anymore. In or around cities, in suburbs and small towns, there is no night. It still gets dark, and the days still get longer or shorter. Lights are everywhere — large, ...
