The sea of spuming thought foists up again
The radiant bubble that she was. And then
A deep up-pouring from some saltier well
Within me, bursts its watery syllable.
–Wallace Stevens, “Le Monocle de Mon Oncle”
This morning, my husband yells at me. There’s nothing to do, I say. You could try doing the dishes, he says. He goes. I […]