>I tend to think I dislike poetry, and not just because I suck at it. Usually I think I hate it. So much of it is so obtuse that I feel dumb trying to figure it out, so I wave my middle finger at the page. The rest of it seems to belong in a Hallmark card. I wave my middle finger at that stuff too. At least once a year I try and “get it” but usually I don’t. I have a couple books of poetry that I look in now and then, but I’ve about given up on trying to be a fan. I respect poets and the thankless world they’ve chosen to live in, but so many of them come across to me as picky folks who talk too quiet. I’m about half deaf; if you want to reach, speak up.
It’s down. The hornets’ nest.
Now first sting of frost on the ground
and we see no threat
only the hollow where harm lived.
Everything the season housed has flown:
yellow jackets idling low in the grass,
bats fanning the dusk, the hornets
threading close to the roof.
When we were children
we’d leap from our beds,
arms flung wide. In the seconds
before landing, we didn’t know fear
resides in gravity or stars fall
into themselves. We imagined rising
over the roofs not like souls
detached from bodies, but as bodies
resisting the world. Light in my hands
when I lifted it from the eave, fervor gone,
no longer wadded in industry, this testament
to vanishings is almost too fragile to hold.
– Michelle Gillett
I can’t tell you why I like it. I just do. Maybe there is hope for me yet. For the record, Orion is one of, if not my numero uno, favorite reads. So what if I’m a couple issues behind in reading it.
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I just ordered this album, which is “officially” released on Tuesday. You should too. It’s going to be magnificent.
And I haven’t even talked about SHRINEBUILDER yet.