ANOTHER ONE RETURNS TO MAMA MOI
Apparently, I wrote a poem called "The Flooding That Writes Itself." I concede I wrote it because I was just asked to proof it. It's scheduled to be published in International Feminist Journal of Politics, put out somewhere in England.
I know nothing about this journal, but I like the name. Sounds impressive.
So, I proofed the poem (found the need to insert a comma) and sent it back as approved for publication.
This is what I know -- there are many poems out there I've lost (track of). What I don't know is how many of them there are.
Of course, their return is always welcome. Even though they do bemuse Moi when they come ringing at the Iron Gate and, having let them enter, I don't recognize them.
So that, later, I would turn to the mirror yet again and ask, Who are You?