What's that you say, October ?
"I had sent a rather creepy narrative poem about Sleeping Beauty, called “Beauty is Sleeping,” to a small magazine, which wrote back to me that “you can’t write about beauty in the 20 th century and get away with it.” - Annie Finch No ideas but in things !! Mechanistic science would have us believe that even memory is biological. Every poem begins as a ring of fire. Most end in shallow pits of ash. Still others, flight. ----- Let there be ash. Let there be light. October As the spirit plunges under and the body knows its sender and the reaper splices the moon, we brooders burst into bloom. * . Whut'd you say ?