Ash Minnehan

Biography

Writing doesn't keep the lights on. It is the light.

Samples

Pant The day wasn’t invented at the point the skin was ready for shedding sleek along underbrush and trunk you can’t pick out without light nothing striking as first sight of you ringing waves re- verberate compulsive no com- plaint I’ve made investigative headway stirring grooves where I have moved in earth as eel or sea as asp rear without limb Wasn’t the day invented for its own reveal, insular until her revelation dawned blindness was a mindless drone and drain of oceans you won’t lament our own recollection of triton re- creation living within the ladder before it was leaned, before it was lent, before we were weaned, before we went in pens up we can’t be panting reflection It dances and you don't know as water must in light I have these drifting years to let me save every offering from subtle to tempest her waves must be suffered or soaked in so deeply these same hands that had vainly paddled prove lines being drenched I'll have another hundred such dawns and days they carry inspiration like river t(i)rade a heavy lading made light was my oceanic mission out of the blue turned redolent as glints hitting webbing we have that heady and effortless step We spin yet it holds with- in its brilliant extension rust does not tarnish or corrode from us we take that other- wise— by less freethinking— bitter reversion of ore to the air and feel in the earth in the water in the salt a bulwark the first I was aware It was enough for the out- siders to say I was hysterical and if they knew what I now did there’d be a masters bearing therapist to declare a wild veering near the attic stairs It was a summer day when sweat escaped even the indigent, came in great rivulets to roost and drop from the noose perusing literary boons lost or last, ever in the white caps of a windless noon It was on one of those jobs taken at the time to pass the time because dying was not quite a priority, before the weight of occupation became a chore, but not an angry one, just something else on a list to get done It was a conversation I was finally wise enough to just listen, even with subjects repetitive or uninspired because it could be, and we are the ones jumping from rafters and steps a forum yet to see the triumph nets in our fall as we leapt

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