the mistby David McLeanthe mist stands over the lake like a murderer over his victim, born a corpse by blows, just as a simile is language ineptly beaten, slaughtered, for all words are literal, all thought. just letters taken to a postbox and sent to God whose response shall echo in His abyss, He is not exactly absent, never having existed, but we miss Him, as the lake mourns the murderous mist that abandons it ©David McLean David McLean is Welsh but has lived in Sweden since 1987. He lives there on an island in the Stockholm archipelago with a woman, five selfish cats, and a stupid dog. He has a BA in History from Oxford, and an unconnected MA in philosophy, much later, from Stockholm. Details of his available books, chapbooks, and over 850 poems in or forthcoming at 370 places online or in print over the last couple of years, are at his blog at http://mourningabortion.blogspot.com. He never submits by snail mail since he has little money and since he loves, or at least doesn't have anything against, trees. Among things forthcoming is a chapbook called nobody wants to go to heaven but everybody wants to die from Poptritus Press in summer 2009. Early 2010 an anthology called laughing at funerals will appear with Epic Rites Publications. A 50 poem chapbook from Epic Rites called hellbound is on sale now. For Epic Rites he edits the chapbook series and the e-zines lines written with a razor and the thin edge of staring, as well as selecting works for the radio network. |