Mnemosyne Slumber Party Reading

Well, I may be missing out on AWP this year (as I have other years), but at least I'll be reading in San Francisco next week, 2/23, at the Mnemosyne Slumber Party event. Ahh, the wonders of Skype! I'll be reading work from my MS in waiting, Aphrodite's Son--looking forward to hearing the work of others involved with the mag.

"Watching Fog Roll Off The Shack At Toad Hall Pond"

Watching Fog Roll Off The Shack At Toad Hall Pond


This white-picket life once was dangerous:
snow caves in winter, quicksand in summer.
Nothing in this world was sacred.
 

I ran away through backwoods, through nettles
and poison oak, scrabbled over barbed wire.
This American life once was dangerous;
 

it took my every immunity to rush the Brahman
in the field. Now I walk as though on clover.
Nothing in this world can be sacred.
 

Each of my children is a dandelion clock.
I foreknow their sail over this river in the sky.
This white-picket life once was dangerous
 

before such letting go, such letting slip
the cordage that bound me to any of my beloved.
Nothing in this world could be sacred,
 

not spring, not fall, the rouge of any Roman dusk.
This white-picket life once was dangerous
although it was a gross, disintegrating menagerie.
Nothing in this life is sacred.

It's 4:07 A.M.

My latest writing article can be read at Cheek Teeth, the mouthpiece of the online literary magazine Trachodon.  Check it out!