Well. Then. You say Grandmother
let me just ask you this:
How does a body rise again and rinse
her mouth from the tap. And how
does a body put in a plum tree
or lie again on top of another body
or string a trellis. Or go on drying
the flatware. Fix rainbow trout. Grout the tile.
Buy a bag of onions. Beat an egg stiff. Yes,
how does the cat continue
to lick itself from toenail to tailhole.
And how does a body break
bread with the word when the word
has broken. Again. And. Again.

– C.D. Wright

It’s Gameday in America and I am still trying to read. This week has been mentally exhausting. I’ve always had trouble reading and writing when I’m feeling any kind of emotional extreme, so to feel that way for most of the week has left creativity feeling far away. But I don’t want to maintain that emotional extremity, don’t want to be distant from writing. Especially not now, when I’m so conscious of the fact that these months are the last months I’ll get to sit with writing in this way.

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