Writing in the Fallow
Why am I here? Not getting married, not finishing an MFA, not moving to Oregon.
I’m heading into the deep freeze of Arctic-Iowa, after spending two-hundred dollars on writing contests instead of the boots I need. I just returned from RVing in Oregon, to gain some distance from my failed submission mission. I am back at the page with a new strategy: to meditate on just a few words, like the triptych poems I read in Hamilton Stone Review by Holly Painter (heinous horror impregnable). As I scan ca