Sunday, August 25, 2024

in which the poet returns to the sea



I've been fiddling away with the mariana fragments this past week since my rather auspicious start last weekend and am liking them so far. I initially thought they might be footnote-ish in style, but they are feeling more whole. As a writer who has probably written a hundred mermaid poems in her lifetime (including shipwrecks of lake michigan, which was a more modern interpretation of the lore, plus the entire segments of siren poems in GRANATA (though they were the winged, non-tailed, version of the original myths) it's a subject I return to often, despite living many, many miles from any sea beyond the vast expanse of Lake Michigan at my doorstep. 

I was recently telling J about my fascination with sea creatures that initially spawned my desire to study marine bio when I was 17--a complicated mix of low-key peer pressure, charismatic AP bio teachers, a desire to save the world, and endless environmental editorials in my high school newspaper. I quickly learned I was not cut out for science due to what I suspect, in hindsight,  is a serious learning disability when it comes to math and numbers, However, I lived briefly along the Carolina coast taking marine science classes and loved it.  Science's loss was ultimately poetry's gain.


This project is, of course, a little different. Inspired by that series of images I generated just on a lark, but now, as I progress through text fragments, is becoming an eerie story of a cursed seaside town whose houses keep collapsing into the surf and whose women become monstrous hybrids--not mermaids at all, but slimy, slithery, darker things.. If I manage to progress smoothly, I may even have it done in time to share during the lead-up to Halloween, when I have quite a few other surprises in store both here, IG, and in the shop.