An editor of my college poetry journal loved this new "depth" poet. He did not realize that I was drowning, and I could barely string words together...
I find that as I enter the hibernation period, I often stock up on words. Words that reflect the little light that is left as the twilight of the year arrives. Verses that remind me there is delight in dormancy and breadth in darkness.
And so I thought it was him, that I needed him, and that delusional lesson got flattened into my soul and I never knew it until I grew up, started doing some difficult inner work, and untangled this ancient, hallucinatory knot that got me stuck, and tied up and twisted into a piece of ...