photograph by Miles Schulte

W ill B laisdell by ink and pen

Return to Sender

Sean Agniel

“Sometimes,” she says, “The words come falling out my fngers. A cataract of memory and phrase Dripping across the page, without purpose?

But how could that be? They came from somewhere (or One?) Appearing now for some use Or another.”

And then her eyes fx On the mystery befallen, First one and then another Cross and amuse her gaze.

Popcorn movement of Consonant and vowel that, Mistaking curtsy for shove, Bow and elbow blow

Until leapfrogging into View, they mix-master each Other for cause and new Moment of meaning that reveals: Some tenement of Meeting.

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