Published: April 2005 |
"Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake/ and dress them in warm clothes again./ How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running/ until they forget that they are horses." ~From the opening poem, "Scheherazade"
What I admire most about these poems is their ability to feel so damn emotionally vulnerable. As I revisit them in the near future, I hope to peel back the layers I initially missed because my expectations were so high.
Favorite poems include: "Scheherazade," "Driving, Not Washing," "Visible World," and "Dirty Valentine"
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