I read, I listened. I love the sound of your voice.
Yea, this poem looks to find where our breaths live, and finds that place. Also yes, awful to contemplate. For her, could have wished more wild (dangerous) than merely feral, but then, that's the story isn't it. Ghosts of kittens drowning in a bag. NOTE to my child horror that's what my family a gen. back did to get rid of unwanted kittens. Wish I'd been big enough to fight back.
I've always thought that it was interesting that when I've written about D.L.D.'s "field notes" (including scenes in a play) people have weighed in on how they wanted the ugly details ramped up to an extreme. I think the slow drip of unrelenting, dehumanising treatment is more horrific than a single dramatic incident. But that's me. Like a songwriter who can't bring herself to write a decent hook.
Not a pleasant image. A woman in a musty, moldy basement peeling potatoes…
Very little - if any - of her observations were pleasant.
I read, I listened. I love the sound of your voice.
Yea, this poem looks to find where our breaths live, and finds that place. Also yes, awful to contemplate. For her, could have wished more wild (dangerous) than merely feral, but then, that's the story isn't it. Ghosts of kittens drowning in a bag. NOTE to my child horror that's what my family a gen. back did to get rid of unwanted kittens. Wish I'd been big enough to fight back.
Thanks Ren
I've always thought that it was interesting that when I've written about D.L.D.'s "field notes" (including scenes in a play) people have weighed in on how they wanted the ugly details ramped up to an extreme. I think the slow drip of unrelenting, dehumanising treatment is more horrific than a single dramatic incident. But that's me. Like a songwriter who can't bring herself to write a decent hook.
Yes
Great reading.
Thank you!