Marvin Wildstein z"l

We sadly announce the passing of Marvin Wildstein who was a great poet, fabled raconteur, lover of jazz and women and de-facto Mayor of Bleecker Street.

Marvin died of pneumonia in early April 2015 in a nursing home on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, NYC where he had been living since his transfer from his apartment on Ridge Street nearby. Saved from being buried in an anonymous grave for paupers, Marvin is resting in Richmond Hill Cemetery on Staten Island as part of the Hebrew Free Burial Society. The grave just needs a memorial stone for him.


I am sure that we have many great stories of Marvin that I hope you will share on this blog.


Leonard Cohen Talks Poetry

This wonderful video is a speech that Leonard Cohen gave after receiving the Prince of Asturias Poetry prize.


Spike Wilner

As Wildstein said, "The beautiful music played by Spike Wilner goes well with my poetry."

Willner owns Smalls, a jazz club in NYC where Wildstein and his poetry found a home.


POEM: The Desert Sun

The Desert Sun


blinded by the desert sun
the Hebrew prophets
divined in darkness
a beauty deeper
than had been known


an old retainer
of Charles The First
asked to defect
to Cromwell’s side
replied as follows
I have eaten
the king’s bread
for thirty years
I will not desert him
in his hour of need


the beauty of the moral act


 101 Great American Poems (Dover Thrift Editions)

POEM: Aesthete


adrift on the couch
I spot a ship
my Chinese hat
a peasant’s handiwork
upon a ledge

the crown is a prow
breasting the waves
the brim a curve
curving seawards

Oh  a ship
is a beautiful thing
even when at rest
dreaming of the open sea

POEM: The Sport of Kings (with apologies to Hemingway)

The Sport Of Kings
(with apologies to Hemingway)

I was fucking
a good-looking kid
from Baltimore
whose uncle owned
a great horse
(Spectacular Bid)

feeling like family
I rooted him home
to win the Derby
two weeks later
it was the Preakness
when he lost the Belmont
I felt like shit
then the kid
takes off for Maryland
when she gets back
it’s not the same

I don’t know
sometimes   it seems
they don’t leave
a guy   nothin’



101 Great American Poems (Dover Thrift Editions)