New poem redrafted. First word, "Immaculate." Last word, "blink." Median word, "unctuous."
Well now I feel bad suggesting it.
Not pushy at all; happy to oblige. Glad to hear it pleased.
Not quite ready to share, I don't think particularly if I end up subbing it. But since you asked, the first lines: Antiquated vision, weary auguries: a glass-eye sun sucked clean
I have finished a poem draft. It's the best thing I've ever written. It's terrible. I hate it.
Ahead of the @minorlits.bsky.social event in Paris this weekend, I thought I’d remind you of this extract of a longer piece that they kindly published early this year, in case you missed it.
an introduction to what will never be written, part 2 — Isabella Streffen (@minxmarple.bsky.social ) minorliteratures.com/2024/01/23/a...
[click on images to enlarge] XI XXXII XLIV LV Isabella Streffen is an artist, you can find her online as @MinxMarple. Her book Fabulae: How It Begins is available from Ma Bibliothèque.
I personally would derive some comfort just knowing it was there.
Excess of sorrow laughs. Excess of joy weeps.