desiccated twigs in the swamp of the skull

Grace Paley, what is she like? Dainty white bird bones and little chameleon’s feet that pick-pick their way all the way up you then whoa your stomach parachutes out at 13,000 feet with no permission.

And funny. She’s funny too.

Words

What has happened?
language eludes me
the nice specifying
words of my life fail
when I call

Ah says a friend
dried up no doubt
on the desiccated
twigs in the swamp
of the skull like
a lake where the
water level has been
shifted by highways
a couple of miles off

Another friend says
No no my dear perhaps
you are only meant to
speak more plainly

– Grace Paley

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One thought on “desiccated twigs in the swamp of the skull

  1. Jessie carty says:

    Ah thanks for sharing :)

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