Listening to Kay Ryan again

and her impressive command of the simple in all its complexity. I skip the linebreaks, which are deceptive, because I don’t have the physical book handy:

. . . fifty-fifty. That’s as bad as it gets, usually, despite the fear when life angles brutally. (“Dogleg”)

. . . The passage of a life should show. It should abrade. And when life stops, a certain space, however small, should be left scarred by the grand and damaging parade. Things shouldn’t be so hard. (“Things Shouldn’t Be So Hard”)

. . . trapped in a tub filling with our own fears, strapped to a breadstick mast that a mouse could chew down. (“Shipwreck”)

Tagged , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: