The Rowing Endeth By Anne Sexton

THE ROWING ENDETH                               by Anne Sexton
I’m mooring my rowboat
at the dock of the island called God.
This dock is made in the shape of a fish
and there are many boats moored
at many different docks.
“It’s okay.” I say to myself,
with blisters that broke and healed
and broke and healed –
saving themselves over and over.
And salt sticking to my face and arms like
a glue-skin pocked with grains of tapioca.
I empty myself from my wooden boat
and onto the flesh of The Island.

“On with it!” He says and thus
we squat on the rocks by the sea
and play – can it be true –
a game of poker.
He calls me.
I win because I hold a royal straight flush.
He wins because He holds five aces,
A wild card had been announced
but I had not heard it
being in such a state of awe
when He took out the cards and dealt.
As he plunks down His five aces
and I am still grinning at my royal flush,
He starts to laugh,
and laughter rolling like a hoop out of His mouth
and into mine,
and such laughter that He doubles right over me
laughing a Rejoice-Chorus at our two triumphs.
Then I laugh, the fishy dock laughs
the sea laughs. The Island laughs.
The Absurd laughs.

Dearest dealer,
I with my royal straight flush,
love you so for your wild card,
that untamable, eternal, gut-driven ha-ha
and lucky love.

~ Anne Sexton

Note: And this.

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I Miss you Already!

Hi All, Now that the blogging and poetry classes are over (whew!) I’ll be working on researching, and reading  everything I can get my hands on that has anything to do with writing ad copy.  And reading everything I can on writing creative non-fiction. And will start writing some tiny little pieces to (hopefully) get published in magazines, and online (although at this very early stage I’ll be happy to start collecting rejection slips).

So, I need to put blogging on hold for a while.  And I think instead of just un-following the blogs I love, I’m going to turn off the Notifications so I don’t get notified when the blogs I follow post.  If I didn’t, reading what you write would be too much of an attention grabber for me to leave alone.

Anyway, I just wanted to let you all know this so that if you don’t hear back from me (in Likes and Comments) like you usually do, you’ll know that I haven’t gone out on a month-long drinking binge or am in jail, or in the hospital from a fiery car-wreck, or worst: ignoring you.

I won’t be ignoring you, I’ll be missing you.

Love, and write-on,

Susan (Dusty)

I’m Here So My Own Head Won’t Kill Me

Hello out there!  Whee! I’m here on WordPress because as every writer knows writing can be is a lonely business.  Especially for an introvert like me.  And, even though the first reason (like I need a reason, for instance, to breath) I write is because I can’t not write, I’m also here because I write to be read.  And, I’m here to get better at all aspects of writing, including the discipline to sit my ass down and for-god’s-sake write. I can get a little weird from my self-imposed isolation.  I’m a divorced 57-year-old retired female with a few close friends (who are also on the introverted side), and a grown flew-the-coop son. I may go a couple of days without talking to anyone but the mailman and my cat.  I need other writers to “talk” to, a writing community.  You’re it. I want one of my poems in The New Yorker.  That’s also why I’m here. There, I said it. That’s my ultimate readership goal. Hey!  I have a plan, okay? That being said, I have to get around to writing a post about why I now refuse to read The New Yorker (the reason is socio-political). And I’m here to practice my writing, and get better.  For instance, I still struggle with semicolons; that fact makes me nuts. I’ve read how to use them, and the difference between them and colons and I still can’t get it.  At least on the one hand I feel so dense that it makes me laugh. I’m a writer trying to get better by writing, I don’t care how ungraceful I look while I’m doing it, and I need some help and some good company along the way.