105th Virtual Poetry Circle

Welcome to the 105th Virtual Poetry Circle! Remember, this is just for fun and is not meant to be stressful. Keep in mind what Molly Peacock’s books suggested. Look at a line, a stanza, sentences, and images; describe what you like or don’t like; and offer an opinion. If you missed my review of her book, check it out here. Also, sign up for the 2011 Fearless Poetry Reading Challenge because its simple; you only need to read 1 book of poetry.  Please contribute to the growing list of 2011 Indie Lit Award Poetry Suggestions, visit the stops on the National Poetry Month Blog Tour from April. Today’s poem is from Michael Dickman’s Flies on page 21-3.

Emily Dickinson to the Rescue Standing in her house today all I could think of was whether she +++ took a shit every morning. or ever fucked anybody or ever fucked herself God’s poet singing herself to sleep You want these sorts of things for people Bodies and the earth and the earth inside Instead of white nightgowns and terrifying letters * Here she comes her hands out in front of her like a child flying above its bed Her ankles and wrists held tightly between the fingers of a brightly +++ lit parent home from a party Flying Her spine flying Singing +++++ “Here I come!” Her legs pumping her heart out * Heaven is everywhere but there’s still the world The world is Cancer House Fires and Brain Death here in America But I love the world Emily Dickinson to the rescue I used to think we were bread gentle work and water We’re not But we’re still beautiful Killing each other as much as we can beneath the pines The pines that are somebody’s masterpiece

Let me know your thoughts, ideas, feelings, impressions. Let’s have a great discussion…pick a line, pick an image, pick a sentence. I’ve you missed the other Virtual Poetry Circles. It’s never too late to join the discussion.