Tag: magnetic poetry

Apparently when one has been thirty-five as often as I have, one does not make a whirlwind sneak attack trip to New Orleans to see friends. I am EXHAUSTED.

Randomly pulled the words for this poem, put it together, shot it, and then thought, Good grief. It’s fortunate I didn’t go to any panels, readings, or classes at Saints and Sinners this year, or someone might mistakenly think I wrote this in response. NOT SO. I wouldn’t return to S&S as if it’s whatever the one-winged dove’s* version of Capistrano is if I didn’t love writers to pieces. Besides, if you read the last line of the poem…

*Stolen from Marika. To create is also to steal.