Oddments

In search of story


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Connections: February 8.18

Memo to brain:

heed this sign

a walk becomes plod

hunched and bovine.

It behooves you to skip

stop dragging your feet

tap mental toes

to some irregular beat.

Indulge in some jigs

whirlies and prances

a writer fares ill

if her brain never dances.

(And maybe that is true for all of us.)

 

Thanks yet again to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.

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Connections: June 15

SANYO DIGITAL CAMERAWhat isĀ voice?

I have wondered.

How do words become

voice?

Then I read the words

of Emily Doe

soundless to my ears

but in my head

jackhammer

chewing concrete

Rachel

weeping

green-black thunder

of torrid summer storm

voice

He raped a writer.

Words are all she has

voice

anguished

solo

over the chorus

of the bloody writhing

the siren-screaming

together

now

coming at us.

Words are all we have.

Will they be

voice?

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