WeHo Book Fair and #11

It was great to reunite with the EV Fellows yesterday to read at the West Hollywood Book Fair, and all of us were present this time.  Mehnaz writes about the need to be flexible as a writer when reading in her blog, here. Especially when there are motorcycles going by, babies crying, people talking on their cellphones, etc.  I think fairs and festivals like this one are good places for folks to physically peruse and explore different genres in writing through the panels, workshops offered.  Although I’m typically inclined to poetry and fiction, it was cool to see communities of mystery writers and readers.  However, I do understand feeling overwhelmed at fairs like this when trying to attend readings and visiting all the booths.  It’s hard to choose!

***

#11

after Dorianne Laux, “What’s Broken”

My mother’s scratched statue of Jesus,     hands heavy with air.

Not a bone in this body.     This heart tipped over after the blast

down the throat.     Prince Don Juan’s gravestone that reads:

“Died of  heartbreak,”     crumbled beneath the jasmine.

Cracked shells against my ankles     in the rocky Mediterranean.

What isn’t:     a postcard with a stamp of a Spanish queen,

your name and address neatly printed,     the gloss

from the Real Alcazar  dull from hands     passing it over

with inspection.     When I imagine you

reading this,    I begin to —

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