It got hot enough today that I felt my brain might explode. I wished the memory of smooth rocks and cold Maine ocean water could keep me cool. Fans had to do as I worked in search of the tension between the density of a rock, the breath of air and a poetic line in the smallest of my pots.
Although the poet Kay Ryan says she likes to "squeeze things until they explode," she insists "there's a sense of air and ease in even the smallest of my poems." from an interview in the Paris Review
Although the poet Kay Ryan says she likes to "squeeze things until they explode," she insists "there's a sense of air and ease in even the smallest of my poems." from an interview in the Paris Review
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