For the past year and half or so, I’ve been working on a project about Vincent Van Gogh that is comprised of traditional poems but also collages about his work and life. I’m a bit obsessed with Mr. Van Gogh (we have the same birthday) and I really enjoyed working on these collages, so I’m so thrilled that three of them went live today in the latest issue of Petrichor Lit Mag.
Time in a pandemic is strange to say the least. This is especially the case as we come up on a year of social distancing and masking and hoping for vaccine that appears to finally be here.
This poem is a special one to me as it examines my physical body in a way that I don’t normally address in my poetry. It could be said that birth is a momentous and awe inspiring experience. It could be true that you look back on the birth of your child or children as a spiritual time. It could be said that you found it rejuvenating.
I think what could definitely be said, no matter what your experience may have been, is that is also traumatic. There’s no way around that trauma and that’s the idea this particular poem grapples with. I’m thankful to Fish Barrel Review for publishing it.
I became interested in visual poetry a few years ago and started playing around with some of my own work. I actually had a dream about this poem and this was the image I remembered when I woke up. A large, sprawling forsythia bush with the bones of all our beloveds buried beneath. I’m thrilled to have it up at Dream Pop with so many other great pieces.
I have a new essay up at Thimble Literary Magazine. It’s about the little pond I built in my backyard after my grandfather died and how I found comfort in the midst of my grief. It’s a beautiful issue and I’d encourage you to check it out.
And here we are at the end. If you watched or commented or both, thank you. I’ve enjoyed this little project and until I see you again, take good care of yourself.
This poem first appeared in The Indianapolis Review.
Only one more poem left! Hope you’re all well wherever you are.
Happy Sunday, loves. Hope you’re well wherever you are.
This poem originally appeared in Issue 8 of Parentheses.