a poem for today, 2 July 2012
[a letter sorted sonnet of four sentences and its image]
I quickly made a two-hour film in my head featuring her driving a team of mules across the countryside, while fighting off invading Mongol warriors, then taking a moment to self-deliver her baby in the field.
It is arguable that men and boys experience similarly jarring episodes of anger and anxiety-channelling mass psychosis, but we call it male aggression and fund military industrial complexes to deal with it.
The character is given secondary objectives to complete.
If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands.
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