Foetry

The Love Blurb of J. Alice Graham

Give me a minute–I was ravished.

Let me remember so I can explain.

I am having cold sweats. So much labor.

To be among anonymous manuscripts

As the anonymous judge and suddenly one

Mounts you like Zeus–Oh! Jesus that feels good.

Smoke gets in your thighs. The truth?

Of course it was disguised.

I was pressed into service at Georgia.

I am a friend of the poets so I said yes.

So many of you are thinking. What are you thinking?

What? You never tell me what you are thinking! What?

I made one manuscript my own

Personal favorite–what else can we love?

They called me the hyacinth girl.

I suffered erosion. Now, smooth and small

I am the medication for their worry,

A small pill for fame.

But back to the manuscript. Let me be forward.

I was on my back when I read it.

Oh, new! Icon-breaker! Lover of Syllables!

It–it–does it new, old, and so damn good!

Ontology! Prayer Book! New millennium! No ideas but in things!

Anonymous sex is degrading. I always know what I love.

The terror of anonymous manuscripts–

I was in a dark wood of twenty dollar bills.

A dark middle life, divorced from things I loved–

Give me a minute,

Your honor.