
Rosmarie Waldrop : The Nick of Time
Between The Covers : Conversations with Writers in Fiction, Nonfiction & Poetry
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I Am Not My Name. Is Anybody's.
I have never felt one with leaves when drain and able to cry. Promiscuously language, which is all difference, proves that you and i are not one. Or so every sentence hopes for love, each wrapped in our own clilt and alone. When it's clear we need the world and its obstacles in order not to destroy ourselves. And even thinking is the inrush of other voices, like mary's conceiving through the ear. I is not my name. Is anybody's. Well, let's, let's finish with a final poem. Ah, i was thinking maybe we could end with loving words. Boqe, loving words.
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