{"id":4147,"date":"2012-09-21T10:56:57","date_gmt":"2012-09-21T14:56:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.gadflyonline.com\/home\/?p=4147"},"modified":"2012-10-03T09:58:27","modified_gmt":"2012-10-03T13:58:27","slug":"two-poems-by-abigail-lee","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/two-poems-by-abigail-lee\/","title":{"rendered":"Two Poems by Abigail Lee"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/www.gadflyonline.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/09\/poem1.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-4158\" title=\"poem1\" src=\"http:\/\/www.gadflyonline.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/09\/poem1.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"362\" height=\"747\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>&#8212;-<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/www.gadflyonline.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/09\/poem2.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-4159\" title=\"poem2\" src=\"http:\/\/www.gadflyonline.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/09\/poem2.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"507\" height=\"683\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>&#8212;-<\/p>\n<p>Abigail is a recent grad of the University of Virginia, and currently doing rebuilding work in New Orleans. She seeks out long periods of concentrated reading and meticulously packed lunches. She cannot turn down carbohydrates of any ilk, she aspires to master knitting cabled fisherman\u2019s sweaters, she loves the sound hanging seashells make when they clink in the breeze, and anything blue exerts an irresistible pull on her. She doesn\u2019t like cats or Radiohead.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The goal of poetry is to see the extraordinary in the everyday, and plainness in the fantastic, I was once taught. Allow yourself to see things another way, said this teacher. Abigail Lee seems to have heard that lesson too. <\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I should warn you: \/ all love ends \/ in loss.&#8221; What else to say but so it goes? Surely, there is beauty in complete mourning, but that does not make it easier, says our first poem. And then, a twisted take on what terror is, not as something seen, but not seeing:  &#8220;terrifying, knowing I\u2019ve driven 20 miles \/ without seeing a damn thing\u2026.&#8221; The poem sees the stream of human experience so brightly, that it is a disappointment just to turn away. Never mind that the narratives are heartbreaking. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":111,"featured_media":4150,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,219,199],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4147"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/111"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4147"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4147\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4258,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4147\/revisions\/4258"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/4150"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4147"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4147"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/gadflyonline.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4147"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}