Audioblog, We Hope
I did the recording, and such, and so it should appear here today, I hope. Anyway, I read the poem I posted on July 4, just below this one, "To the coroner who did not have to draw my blood."
I neglected to mention that this poem originally was published in the mid-nineties in The Northwest Review. The editor, John Witte, went over it with me a number of times, especially cutting out four or five lines beyond the close of this version. I don't recall those lines, but they more or less expanded on all that it means, which I think can be a liability in confessional poetry: we try too hard to confess, or communicate, too much, beyond what the poem itself can sustain.