Micah P. Hawkinson lives in Topeka, Kansas with his lovely wife Magen and their four little “M”s. He writes poetry and fiction for love and computer programs for money. His interests include philological discussions, pork gravy, and the care and cultivation of dandelion skeletons.
A Galahadic Tale of Ruin
April is upon us, my rabbity friends. And boy, do poets love to start long poems by mentioning this month! In the opening of The Waste Land, T. S. Eliot writes:
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April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
On Poetry, Programming, Chaos, and Cosmos
A few years ago at Hutchmoot, Pete Peterson said something that has been enriching the leaf-mould of my mind ever since. Quoting Walt Wangerin, Jr., Pete talked about how the Sanskrit word cinoti “makes of the poet ‘a heaper into heaps, and a piler into piles.’”Read More ›