These walls, these walls keep closing in
My poem "The Wearing Season" is now online at Through the Gate. It is a small but very fine issue, the rest of the TOC being Bogi Takács and Rose Lemberg. This is the poem I wrote during the dress rehearsals for Tomes of Terror: New Arrivals in October, which surprised me considerably: usually I need solitude. I suppose it is one of the ghost poems, even without any names.
I am looking at three apartments today, in a crazed webwork of buses. Wish me luck and not a lot of frostbite.
I am looking at three apartments today, in a crazed webwork of buses. Wish me luck and not a lot of frostbite.
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Thank you. I am pleased that something I wrote while six people were being part of a subway crash in front of me actually turned out publishable, in addition to good.
I wish you great good luck and no frostbite at all.
It was a close thing, but I still have all my fingers.
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You're welcome. I'm pleased that you're pleased.
It was a close thing, but I still have all my fingers.
I'm delighted that you've still got them. I hope that the apartment which you like will work out for you.