My poem “Milley-la-Forét, Summer 1963” is live at Neologism Poetry Journal. Many thanks to editor Christopher Fields for taking this piece.
O at the Edges
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
O at the Edges 
There is a tale of breakfast here. A call to be the pig, who commits to breakfast in a way that the chicken and goat rarely do. Hence his stately and luxurious place.
It’s a great poem, though. Another super piece.
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Thanks, Rob. In real life it was actually a goat, but I changed it to pig for drama’s sense.
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Delightful! I feel for the pig, basking in his bliss! Congrats, Bob!
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Ah, the pig! The unsuspecting pig!
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Congratulations, Bob.
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Thank you, Andrew.
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You’re welcome.
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Congratulations on the publication of your poem, which I enjoyed reading. I’m particularly interested in the inspiration for the title.
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Thanks, Liz. An event from my childhood was the launching point for the poem.
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You’re welcome, Bob. Childhood events do launch a lot of poetry!
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They certainly do.
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Those last lines… If I make my lens a political one, the chills I get are different but wonderful from every angle!
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Ooh, I can see that!
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We all have those blinders on…(K)
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…with no
thought of crisper days and frost-crusted
nights, of steaming cauldrons and the enduring darkness
once far below, now reaching up so carefully
deliberate, so tender, so near.
Love the slightly ominous — and beautifully pensive — turn.
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Now my thoughts are turning to warmer days. And nights. And to putting off that enduring darkness…
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I like that one quite a bit. It may be France in your poem, but I see Bruegel’s brush work from your pen.
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Bruegel! Maybe a few strokes from his brush, but he was a tad more severe, I believe.
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