Blue Manifesto Letter from the Editor
Playlist
Not Full Enough
Henri Bergson on Possibility and Creation
Dead Friend Haunts Man with Mismatched Flip-Flops
R. W. Haynes
She sculpted a Medusa.
She said, “It looks like me.”
She cast a small bronze demon
Dancing happily.
The paintings I remember,
Seen in those college days,
Are just the ones she painted.
For when old memory plays.
And when she sang in concert,
I hovered overhead,
Forever blowing bubbles
Wherever her music led.
And then I went to México
To watch the dancers spin,
And then returned when years had passed,
And here she is again.
R. W. Haynes, product of the South Georgia swampland and the South Texas cactus country, is Regents Professor of Humanities at Texas A&M International University. His published poetry collections are "Laredo Light," "Let the Whales Escape," "Heidegger Looks at the Moon," and "The Deadly Shadow of the Wall."