Natasha is brilliant. I had the honor of hearing her read much of this manuscript and seeing the galley. It's one of those books I pick up and say, "Damn, I wish I'd written this or that I could write like this in general."
Christine, it's not a heron. It's an egret. I knew it was an egret the whole time - but for whatever reason, typed heron, knowing full well it couldn't be one, because they don't look like that.
But it is a magnificent bird, and let me come within about three feet.
Sam Rasnake, a sardonic twist of fate, is a pathetic excuse for a poet who once dreamed he was a human who dreamed he was a teacher who thought he could play guitar. Along the way - a soul-mate, two children - one collection, Necessary Motions; three chapbooks, Religions of the Blood, Lessons in Morphology, and Inside a Broken Clock. He even thinks he edits a magazine - Blue Fifth Review.
5 comments:
Natasha is brilliant. I had the honor of hearing her read much of this manuscript and seeing the galley. It's one of those books I pick up and say, "Damn, I wish I'd written this or that I could write like this in general."
That's what that is! A heron. I kept forgetting the name. I always see one or two of those beauties on my train ride to NJ>
Christine, it's not a heron. It's an egret. I knew it was an egret the whole time - but for whatever reason, typed heron, knowing full well it couldn't be one, because they don't look like that.
But it is a magnificent bird, and let me come within about three feet.
that's on beautiful sunset, Sam.
Thanks G.
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