The Writer's Almanac

Weekdays at 9:01am
Garrison Keillor

Garrison Keillor offers a daily poem and literary history almanac.

Read the daily poem at the Writer's Almanac website here.

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Podcasts

  • Thursday, March 26, 2015 10:01pm
    Helmet and rifle, pack and overcoat Marched through a forest. Somewhere up ahead Guns thudded. Like the circle of a throat The night on every side was turning red. They halted and they dug. They sank like moles Into the clammy earth between the trees. And soon the sentries, standing in their holes, Felt the... Read more »
  • Wednesday, March 25, 2015 10:01pm
    It is as true as Caesar’s name was Kaiser That no economist was ever wiser (Though prodigal himself and a despiser Of capital and calling thrift a miser). And when we get too far apart in wealth, ’Twas his idea that for the public health, So that the poor won’t have to steal by stealth,... Read more »
  • Tuesday, March 24, 2015 10:01pm
    Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because... Read more »
  • Monday, March 23, 2015 10:01pm
    Driving a cardboard automobile without a license                                at the turn of the century               my father ran into my mother                                                        on a fun-ride at Coney Island                    having spied each other eating                                           in a French boardinghouse nearby And having decided right there and then                                               that she was for him entirely          he followed her into                                               the playland of... Read more »
  • Sunday, March 22, 2015 10:01pm
    across from the gas station a bus stopped every ten minutes under the blue streetlight and discharged a single passenger. Never more than one. A one-armed man with a cane. A girl in red leather. A security guard carrying his lunch box. They stepped into the light, looked left, then right, and disappeared. Otherwise, the... Read more »