... despite the flu, and between the sniffles and the coughs -- I think Sylvia Plath was the first to discover how fever feeds the Muse, but I don't recommend it. See if this works; you may need to crank up the volume. You can also podcast it if you have iTunes, just do a search under my name until the link appears. Stay well. Here's the poem:
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at a moments notice...
joy, torture, amsterdam, the man, dreams, higher, dream, dream, dream, heart full moon down lost shuffling, shallow, stuffed, still, hand, still, procession, moratorium, the beast, the breast, to eat, what it was, shot, blood, scurry, out of us, television, turned off to our future, the future existing to no one, solid ear, use it, lose it, a ring of prayer to sympathy, say, say, say, spring to, salutes, give it in, cash, splash, destiny, act, play, say it, say it, say it, sell it to the soul of a potato buried deep and let it rise, an enterprise, in, out, within air we seek, still inside, still inside, the memory, that day, those weeks, years, tears, wasteland, turn turn here, return, say it say it say it isn't so, those rivers, pits, denial, tied off hands, sawed off heads, play it straight and forward, on, onto the interstaste of the U S of A, the flower and stuff, out on streets, canyons, bayou's, hunger, defeat, hurricane at your feet, clay, skin, heat, say it isn't so, song, the heart, the play, a mansion of pain, destiny on the side, a gun, hands, hands are the way, hands lead the way...
ps. great poem lorna!!!!
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