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Cut the cicadas.
Cut the salad and a heart.
Red wine to white wine, though I had a legendary preference for red.
Add a "Love."
Adjust lineation of final couplet.
Re-adjust.
8/13/08: Wine back to "red."
Onward.
Thoughts of a poet working in West Michigan
5 Comments:
I'm sick of getting excited to read poems on your blog only to find that stupid "poof!" thing. Quit it, or email me some poems. -Your daughter.
Stuart Dischell once said to me that if he read one more poem with the words "heart," "moon" or "love" in them, he would burn my manuscript. Okay, maybe he didn't say BURN but...
stick with red wine, even if I haven't read the poem.
Stuart Dischell? Stuart Dischell! I love Stuart Dischell! Did you go to Warren Wilson, too? Or UNCG?
As to the substnce of what he (you?) are saying, yes, there is the whole "dead metaphor" thing.
I've been thinking about that lately and should have some more to say about it soon. I would like to put the electric paddles to the chest of a couple of them and jolt them back to life.
Hannah:
I'll send you some poems. I had a slowish summer of writing, but I have rallied recently.
And speaking of orders, update your blog.
Your Magician Father
Sara:
I meant "substance."
GJR
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