Summer Is Like an Inflamed Callous
We enter the
rusty hinges
of
humidity &
time, a
knuckle, a
stained
web,
dark.
My gut prickles,
yanked. I
howl
to the dusk.
~ Erasure of Felicia Zamora’s poem, “Memory of Sheep Rustling”
23 thoughts on "Summer Is Like an Inflamed Callous"
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Wow (that word again) – love this. My gut prickles! a stained web! You have such the talent for these erasures, Karen. I always enjoy reading them.
Thank you so much, Bud. I enjoy puzzling them together.
I agree with this feeling of summer. Love “the/rusty hinges/of/humidity &/time/a/knuckle…”
Thank you, Shaun. Near the end of winter, I long for summer, and not very far into summer, I’m over it. I’ve reached that point so early this year. I don’t ever need ninety-degree temps along with humidity.
That title is incredible, Karen! Your poem matches its energy to perfection. Yes!
Thank you.
I’m absolutely in love with the title. You have erased so much of the poem to reveal new meaning.
Thank you, Linda!
What a collection of words that crackle like the hinge!
Thank you, Nancy.
You are the best puzzler of erasures, Karen. The meaning you craft is amazing in each one.
You grabbed me with this part of the title “Inflamed Callous”
and led me deftly into “the rusty hinges….”
Pam, thank you.
Goddess of the Erasure, I bow at thy feet.
Blushing. Thank you, Kevin.
I, too, was drawn to the title. (I’m a title geek. Cry every time I see an “untitled” poem.) Fascinating that you describe writing these as a puzzle to be worked out. I had not viewed it from that perspective. I think that may help me venture into experimenting with that form. It’s captivating to me how a poem evolves in that manner. Thanks for all your poems this year, erasure and other!
Thank you so much, Sylvia!
Yes, the title draws me in.
What? “Rusty hinges of humidity”
Love it.
Thank you. I was delighted when I saw that image form from the words on the page. At first, I wasn’t sure it made sense, but the humidity hurts what I think of as my rusty hinges (my joints) so it stuck.
I too loved the “Rusty hinges of humidity.”
What caught me was the source poem, Karen, how you pulled a totally different poem from your source. Love it. Borrowed words. It works.
Thank you for this wonderful erasure.
You’re welcome.
So haunting, Karen!
Thank you, Ellen!
Simply amazing, Karen. I feel it deep in my soul (and join you in the howling.)