by Ron Koertge
Q. You’re Such a Disciplined Writer. Were You Always That way?
A. When I was in graduate school, I worked part-time at a local library. I ran the used bookstore in the basement. The money came in handy. There was plenty of time to study.
I learned to know the regulars who talked about living with pain and waiting for bland meals to be delivered.
One sweltering afternoon I read about Tibetan body breakers who dismember corpses with their hatchets and flaying knives so the vultures will have an easier time.
I imagined my own body and the monks asking, “What did this one do?” And the answer would be, “Not much.” As the hand I could have written with flew away from the wrist.
1 thought on “As the hand I could have written with flew away from the wrist…”
What a thought-provoking and peculiar piece of writing! Thanks for featuring it.