As an earthquake victim buried under rubble for half hour,
with seventeen days in the hospital for various surgeries,
then four months on my back as I tried to get up, via physiotherapy,
then more months as I realized I needed pins in my ankle if I was to walk,
then full body anasthesia again to remove the implement in my broken arm,
and to insert pins into my right ankle, and then more post-op recovery, exercise,
and physiotherapy... I was feeling exhausted.
I had had no access to any reading material other than Twitter,
and the books that my friends bought me, during all this time. This includes
a tattered copy of world poetry
that belongs to Wayne Amtzis, and a book about a dog written by Jack London,
which formerly belonged to Sara Shneiderman's 8 year-old son Sam, if I'm not mistaken.
Both of these were excellent (the Chetan Bhagat and Jhumpa Lahiri bought
by other concerned friends I declined to read, because I don't read Bhagat or Lahiri.)
So I was very thrilled to see a jumbo anthology by my bedside,
in which my story had not just been published, but also seem to have a number of other works
which kept me reading throughout the blackouted nights. This was a good sign.
So I hope you will get Emanations, a copy thereof,
because there is a lot there you won't find in mainstream journals.
And I say this not just because I am on the board,
but also because I think you will genuinely like it.
(End of crappy poem #78. The great thing about having a blog
is that you can write things like this
and none of your 12 followers will mind, or even notice.)
You can buy Emanations from Amazon.