/ by Laura Kochman

Well. Then. You say Grandmotherlet me just ask you this: How does a body rise again and rinse her mouth from the tap. And how does a body put in a plum tree or lie again on top of another body or string a trellis. Or go on drying the flatware. Fix rainbow trout. Grout the tile. Buy a bag of onions. Beat an egg stiff. Yes, how does the cat continue to lick itself from toenail to tailhole. And how does a body break bread with the word when the word has broken. Again. And. Again.

- C.D. Wright

It's Gameday in America and I am still trying to read. This week has been mentally exhausting. I've always had trouble reading and writing when I'm feeling any kind of emotional extreme, so to feel that way for most of the week has left creativity feeling far away. But I don't want to maintain that emotional extremity, don't want to be distant from writing. Especially not now, when I'm so conscious of the fact that these months are the last months I'll get to sit with writing in this way.