#8 summer solstice 2011

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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
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