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All fuck yous to loss and one giant yes/to memory

Just received an email from the editor of Orbis Quarterly International Literary Journal saying she was mailing out issue 150 this week. A poem about my grandfather’s memory loss, “Rex Sestina,” will be in it. Isn’t the cover (‘Ashira’ by Orna Ben-Shoshan) glorious?

Music, When Soft Voices Die

Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heap’d for the belovèd’s bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on. – Percy Bysshe Shelley