I am having to do this here alone. No one to tell me when the ocean will begin. I came to explore the wreck. The words are purposes. The words are maps. I came to see the damage that was done and the treasures that prevail, the drowned face always staring toward the sun. This is the place and I am here, the mermaid whose dark hair streams black, carrying a knife, a camera, a book of myths in which our names do not appear. -Adrienne Rich, Diving Into the Wreck.
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
Audio Recording, reading my poem Carousel at Festival Market, 1989
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