Dear friends 🍂 🍁 🪶
I hope you’re as safe & well as you can be. :)
I’ve fiddled with this poem for years, and I’m still not sure it’s right. But perhaps it’s closer. Pantoums are hard, especially secretly ekphrastic ones. But stricter forms are ever-interesting containers, enabling expansion in their own way…
Thank you so much, as always. Please take care of yourselves (as well as you’re able). ❤️🩹
With care & gratitude,
Mik
Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published
from The Great Glass Pumpkin Patch, Palo Alto, 2019: on my writing desk & filled with pens, beneath a Florentine watercolour, Barcelona’s copy of Cien Años de Soledad, en Español, and a laminated photograph of me squeezing my teammates, “It’s only crazy until you do it” written across my back, it’s strange how the sunset seems above the soil but beneath the clay cutout window, unpainted, with a red etching of the Golden Gate Bridge & Strait, and it’s not a glass pumpkin; it hasn’t been gutted—drunk from, on my writing desk & filled with pens, beneath a Florentine watercolour, Barcelona’s copy of Cien Años de Soledad, en Español, and a laminated photograph of me squeezing my teammates, “It’s only crazy until you do it” written across my back, handleless, painted chocolate brown beneath lipstick stains over & over again, the veins of leaves or lips if not all kisses fall on mouths because I haven’t sipped from it, a first waiting to happen and it’s not a glass pumpkin; it hasn’t been gutted—drunk from, matching the sweater-tank-top I wear weekly, low v-neck & lower v-back, handleless, painted chocolate brown beneath lipstick stains over & over again, the veins of leaves or lips if not all kisses fall on mouths because I haven’t sipped from it, a first waiting to happen every day, but I reach for its ink instead— matching the sweater-tank-top I wear weekly, low v-neck & lower v-back, a reminder of “The Glass Essay” or The Glass Castle or how this is the way I've experienced love: A transparent, breakable version of the real thing that buys the only durable item every day, but I reach for its ink instead— it’s strange how the sunrise seems above the soil but beneath the clay cutout window, unpainted, with a red etching of the Golden Gate Bridge & Strait, a reminder of “The Glass Essay” or The Glass Castle or how this is the way I’ve experienced love: A transparent, breakable version of the real thing that buys the only durable item from The Great Glass Pumpkin Patch Palo Alto, 2019:
A new dispatch, from St. John’s, Newfoundland.
The next installment of my fairytales-in-verse series: “The Little Mermaid” - Part 6. NEW installment coming tomorrow!
For the one-and-only, wonderful Conscious Writers Collective, I write previews for our upcoming guest speakers! Take a peek here.
Full archive here ❤️🔥
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