published in Ottawa by above/ground pressIt seems possible that one could hate one’s place but stilllove the world around it.Image: there’s a bowl that has some spoiled food in it, but the bowlitself represents the possibility of spilling out whatit holds—old, inedible food, the spray of a sneeze.The exercisewould be to know (let me work this out—)if the place is in the world,and the food is in the bowl,there is, by implication, something beyond world and bowl.Something ready to be poured, sneezed upon, a place itis acceptable to spill what we don’t want or justspill by accident.
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Elizabeth Robinson is the author of several collections of poetry, most recently Counterpart (Ahsahta) and Blue Heron (Center for Literary Publishing). Her mixed genre meditation, On Ghosts, was a finalist for the Los Angeles Times book award. She co-edits the literary journal Pallaksch.Pallaksch with Steve Seidenberg. With Laura Sims, Beth Anderson, and Susanne Dyckman, she co-edits Instance Press.
An earlier fragment appeared in the fifth issue of Touch the Donkey.
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