105th Virtual Poetry Circle
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Welcome to the 105th Virtual Poetry Circle!
Remember, this is just for fun and is not meant to be stressful.
Keep in mind what Molly Peacock’s books suggested. Look at a line, a stanza, sentences, and images; describe what you like or don’t like; and offer an opinion. If you missed my review of her book, check it out here.
Also, sign up for the 2011 Fearless Poetry Reading Challenge because its simple; you only need to read 1 book of poetry. Please contribute to the growing list of 2011 Indie Lit Award Poetry Suggestions, visit the stops on the National Poetry Month Blog Tour from April.
Today’s poem is from Michael Dickman's Flies on page 21-3.
Emily Dickinson to the Rescue
Standing in her house today all I could think of was whether she +++ took a shit every morning.
or ever fucked anybody or ever fucked herself
God's poet singing herself to sleep
You want these sorts of things for people
Bodies and the earth and
the earth inside
Instead of white nightgowns and terrifying letters
*
Here she comes her hands out in front of her like a child flying above its bed
Her ankles and wrists held tightly between the fingers of a brightly +++ lit parent home from a party
Flying
Her spine flying
Singing +++++ "Here I come!"
Her legs pumping her heart out
*
Heaven is everywhere but there's still the world
The world is Cancer House Fires and Brain Death here in America
But I love the world
Emily Dickinson to the rescue
I used to think we were bread gentle work and water We're not
But we're still beautiful
Killing each other as much as we can beneath the pines
The pines that are somebody's masterpiece
Let me know your thoughts, ideas, feelings, impressions. Let’s have a great discussion…pick a line, pick an image, pick a sentence.
I’ve you missed the other Virtual Poetry Circles. It’s never too late to join the discussion.