“The poem beats you down the street*” when the poem is written as an act of discovery. It’s part of the joy of an open form. The prophecy in this batch of poems from the series I’ve been posting for a few months now portends my Father’s death a few months later as well as the forest fire in the Olympic National Park rainforest which happened this summer.

*Eileen Myles from the interview I did with her in 2001.