[from Sad Little Breathing Machine by Matthea Harvey]
Address to an Absent Flea
Reading the sonnet the old way
was impossible once the period
started leaping about. Through
the magnifying glass you seemed
a gadget God, with a suitably
parasitical air. I am trying not
to let making too much of things
become a habit—I read too slowly
already. Little Itch-Ticket whose
menu has only one item on it,
I think it’s important to be specific.
I’ve never felt desire before.
I won’t believe that was accidental
syntax. If a pen were a turret to me
I too might wait, nest in a tapestry
& save my stories for some bloodless day,
but please come back from wherever
you’ve gone. There is so little left.
Interesting combination of writers quoted on this blog. Cormac McCarthy (spelling?) and Margaret Atwood were the only ones I've read of the recent posts. It was one of Atwood's novels--can't remember which--that made me see the possibility of doing laundry as a sensuous experience. She described the main character's laundry day--a vivid passage. Ironic, given that this same woman wrote the HANDMAIDEN'S TALE.
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