maid public

hello my bloggerissimo. i do hope you're grand! i s'pose ya think i done did disappear. yes. been moving to dublin and being mama and never did i use the iron and the dish rag with greater frequency. i spoke with a woman yesterday who recently was getting ready to leave the house and rather than putting on her coat, found herself standing at the door having donned her apron. this did make me laugh with great shared feeling. yet not overly taxing on the cerebrellum this work and yet quite a wave and wild ride and what about the poems? well, this blogger doth have a few over at the green integer review.




what ever happened to the abc project? ok, c is for chance. childbearing changes my relationship to chance. what once was a wonderous and fascinating element that leads me to metaphysical questions is no longer an idea but a force that at every turn may reckon with the body of my tenderest love, my child. life, predicated on chance, is also threatened by it. so i feel much more sympathetic toward the monumental and man's effort to create lasting artifacts in defeat of death. i understand that the life cycle requires death, that the organic feeds on itself, that flaw is part of the natural experience. but my intellectual understanding is seperate from my emotional desire to save my child from accident. so forms and writing processes that celebrate the accident, the mistake, the flaw, the multiple, are less enchanting, more threatening, scary. whimsy bears a sickle.