“Meanwhile, I’m trying. God knows.
But mother unearthed each small
bloodmain under her gauzed wrists.
She fought a strange compulsion
to press her mouth against her
right pulse, taste the throbbing
veiny eels her crooked lovers forsook
drink from blind lakes of their leaving,
undo their digging”
— Airea D. Matthews, from “Sexton Texts During Polar Vortex,” published in Four Way Review
“No wonder we cannot appreciate the really central Kafka joke: that the horrific struggle to establish a human self results in a self whose humanity is inseparable from the horrific struggle. That our endless and impossible journey toward home is in fact our home.”
— David Foster Wallace, Consider the Lobster and other essays (via franzkavka)