In other news, did I ever mention that #11 of my Artistic Statement series appeared in Ramshackle Review? Got word recently that another two will be in an upcoming issue of Sentence. (Numbers 12 and 18, for those of you keeping track at home.)
I am back to working on my Edith Wharton Sentences Project on the morning commute. Here is one:
Don’t Mention the Moon
The ink-stained desk at which all his poems had been written resented poetry, it disliked ink, and had no use for wineglass rings on the wood, or the caustic splashes of whiskey. But it was a desk, and so had little to say about poetry or anything else, and lived its wooden life in the hope that someone other than a poet, a premier, for example, or a CEO, would one day sit down and sign a check, or initial an order to invade a country, anything but the love-sick mutterings or impotent phrasings the desk had perforce grown so resigned to house. “Just don’t mention the moon today,” thought the desk. “For once don’t sit here and write about the moon.”
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