May 05, 2006
I am the      blue egg
I am the      earthquake
that slips in slight within the night
and barely stirs a thing
I am the      blank space
cerebral lull      that takes place
when thoughts are blind and wild unwinding
nothings what it seems
Posted by delire at May 5, 2006 12:45 PM
The blue egg is floating in my brain now, haunting me like a ghost, stirring memories of Emily Dickison. Thank you. Your poetry is beautiful, stirring. Searing.
I thought of some journals you might check out, if you haven't already: The Chicago Review, Rain Taxi, The Boston Review, The Threepenny Review, Fence. I already mentioned Conjunctions, ZYZZYVA, and Another Chicago Magazine.
I have been a little out of my mind the past few days, plagued by obsessions. But you know this already; you saw me on Sunday. I think I am just a bit unhinged by the prospect of my father's operation. But the prognosis is very good and everything should really be fine. We will call when we are back in town.