I started working on this book months ago, then got sidetracked when Harried died. I’ve started working on it again. I haven’t scanned any of the new pages yet, but have been photographing the poems as I finish them. Mostly so that when a cat inevitably scatters the pieces, I know how to put them back together.
Forget all these dead
still
ever and always
Who sit down, uninvited
And make a nightmare
of solitude.
This is what the carcass of the donor book looks like. I mostly took a photo of it because book abuse makes people cry, and I’m a total jerk. But honestly, I think I’m making it better! Ella Wheeler Wilcox is just plain awful, so I like to believe that helping her get in touch with her inner goth girl is adding value. Right?
red paper boat 