I can't believe how complex the structures of these prose poems that I'm editing are, and how much work it is to organize some of them, their patterns of imagery and the other thought processes lying beneath the delicately engraved metaphors. They're my pieces, but geez. Every read through brings up more knots, which I gently massage with verbal acuity (let's hope!) until it doesn't ache anymore.
I'm preparing a manuscript for a potential chap book.
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Woman with Flowers 7.1
(7th sketch in series, first iteration of this one) Woman with Flowers Flowers, props upholding the woman. The flowers, fragrant, imaginar...
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The Buddha says: “ You cannot travel the path until you have become the path itself .” The path is uncertain. Uncertainty is the guiding for...
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What if relationships are the primary ordering principle? What if the way relationships are ordered clarify, explain, and instruct us on th...
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"I hope you are all creating every day according to the inner map you were born with. I know it sometimes seems that map is written in ...
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