"Feeling is a kind of thinking, and thinking
often comes from feeling." ~ Eula Biss
During the thousand and one nights she told one
tale after another, did Sheherazade ever think
That's it, I've come to the end, I can't do any more?
Every scene and plot complication suspends time and
disbelief— she makes drawing from a well of inexhaustible
story seem magical and easy, especially when you consider
the stakes. Every twist, every detail puts one more nail
in the coffin of death (who always has an ear to the keyhole,
a twitchy hand on the sickle). I admire most her composure,
meaning both the act of composition, construction, and
arrangement as well as a calm disposition: the way she
doesn't let her mind freak at the threats made by
the petulant bully in a king's costume, the way she holds
fear and wonder side by side and lets them do their thing.
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
