She was calling from a rat-infested motel room somewhere in Montana, two states away, a .38 caliber revolver clenched in her hand. She had one thing left to do before she planned to press the barrel against her temple and pull the trigger: to thank me.
“Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous / to be understood . . . How two hands touch and the bonds will / never be broken.” —Mary Oliver When the phone rang at 2:30 in the morning, jarring me out of a pleasant dream, I had no idea how dramatically my life was about to change. It was Kelly—a troubled young woman with a drug habit, a criminal record, and a metal plate in her skull from the storefront window through which her boyfriend had pitched her at the tender age of 15. We had dated, sort of, about two years earlier.
She was calling from a rat-infested motel room somewhere in Montana, two states away, a .38 caliber revolver clenched in her hand. She had one thing left to do before she planned to press the barrel against her temple and pull the trigger: to thank me.
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About the Blog
These are the personal reflections of Jay Valusek on the process of Lectio Poetica, on nature, on poetry in general, and on some of words or phrases from poems we have used in our local gatherings. Archives
January 2017
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