Academic journal article Chicago Review

House of Polar Hysteria

Academic journal article Chicago Review

House of Polar Hysteria

Article excerpt

Is a mixed state, agitation and depression, green eyes gleaming fruitfully from the snow. I cast the circle, invoke the professional lover, where is the topaz man when you need him. She cannot be trusted with a weekend. We dwell with Tyw, Wodin, Thor, Freya, never riddle over who rules our workdays. I think he had a forest not a migraine. And I've seen God and done without, listened to the autobiographical sinew of helices for hexes; maybe blew it. Five hundred lifetimes as a fox-that's one. I let the leaves drop, stood all winter long empty-handed. It takes me, the supposed permuter, an hour to drive home, head hung out the window trying to see past striating snow, prow straight into its oncoming swirl, weirded. Go somewhat nuts, picture knot-headed proto-Europeans in rotted bearskins hurling heavy objects, e.g. boulders, at each other and grunting wrathfully. Is ego really so bad, after all someone has to steer the car, guzzle tea, take the last doughnut, facilitate meetings, or else chaos. …

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