Imitation

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Occasionally, for creative writing classes, our professors would give us famous authors to imitate. Anne Carson is one such author, and this was one of my favorite imitations assigned. To most, these paragraphs will seem like nonsense, but they're sort of meant to make you wonder. Carson writes very, very lyrically.

FIN

            Yesterday evening, all of my thoughts fell out. After that, they crawled back in. Fervor was, far was. For me, Sandburg says, he will read ashes if I let him and tell me how the fire runs as far as the sea. A pile of iron was waiting for me in the kitchen. Why would you think of moving me? it said. I knew then that the lights were misting and I was always going to flip the sheets down prematurely and force smelling salts in all the wrong places, the kind my grandmother grew with her rosewater. I closed it all up outside. The wind can disintegrate it in its own time, without the rush of the trains. Please be cognizant of this. I have jumped trains before. It is a skill I won’t lose. You can blankly wander them, manage a slew of them, natively follow them, place your foreign cards on them, lay your impressions out like dried newspaper atop them.

ON COTTON SUBSTANCES

With careful strokes, Mary Jane girl dyed the tips of her fingers with the bluer tint of the pigment, dwelling on the supper table that night. Wine. The field. Throwing rocks over his shoulder. On every sea line there comes a place where the rocks sidle up and quit. I will sit right here. This is why the explorers stopped looking – a startling.

ON MY COUSIN CHASE ABOUT 12:35AM

A capital idea, I haven’t spoken with him since I was twelve. This is a tomorrow day.

ON CICADAS

I’ve noticed that every poet includes some formation of the insect named cicada – “this rare bird” and “one half report” and “the color of forgotten things” are the lines I tucked away. Rare bird and one half report are only pictures that make their sound distinct. They are visionary membranes, quite loud, making their way to glue themselves to trees. Always, they drone in the late summer by the porch lights. This was the most common trend chronicled.

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