{"id":1501,"date":"2013-03-17T15:22:03","date_gmt":"2013-03-17T23:22:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/kathleenflenniken.com\/blog\/?p=1501"},"modified":"2013-03-17T22:51:47","modified_gmt":"2013-03-18T06:51:47","slug":"1501","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/kathleenflenniken.com\/blog\/?p=1501","title":{"rendered":"Deborah Woodard"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Phantom<\/p>\n<h6>I can play each part, be Hamlet, hands in pockets, and then the bikers disappearing over<br \/>\nthe lip of the grave. Plus, the dog\u2019s four legs. There\u2019s a cold gold light, everything shaking<br \/>\nand Ophelia newly dead. My initial schlep toward Hamlet and the tannic depths of the glass \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0cap<br \/>\ncast glitter, the plaid shorts stayed snug over the leggings. Let inspiration toss more \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 confetti:<br \/>\nsky turn apricot, mind crack down the visor. <em>Raise the visor. See both sides of the dunce.<br \/>\n<\/em>I found a little more strength. Summon the dream. Be quick! (Difficult in sun.)<br \/>\nThere was the most serene sky with peaks, blue sitting up there awhile with white.<br \/>\nWas there another place? The teabag withers inside my cup, its little paper flag<br \/>\nbumping gently in the air. My long jacket\u2014well, that\u2019s the kind of ease that comes<br \/>\nwith green and brown suspenders. The tipsy birds were insects in the distance.<br \/>\nIt was d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu to clear my throat, begin. <em>My son, dig yourself out. Move. Displace.<br \/>\n<\/em>The burgundy hedges stayed unruffled, despite Hamlet shambling in and out of them.<br \/>\n<em>I\u2019d like two pairs of legs, please<\/em>. My son is not very bright. He\u2019s fully leafed, well, almost.<br \/>\nThe holly never drowses. Let it scratch out notes on the sky\u2019s paper.<br \/>\nHow is hell going to be? Well, hell. What\u2019s the difference between a violin and a viola?<br \/>\nA viola burns more slowly. (There\u2019s more of it. Heh, heh.) Uncover the berries.<br \/>\nThe little bits of scarlet make us feel safe, like the grey of bare branches, truisms.<br \/>\nAh, and now there\u2019s my son Hamlet again. Ophelia guides him with her ungloved hand.<\/h6>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Phantom&#8221; first appeared in <em>Chelsea.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/www.deborahwoodard.com\/\">Deborah Woodard<\/a> was born in New York City and raised in Vermont, and currently lives in Seattle. She holds an MFA from the University of California at Irvine and a PhD from the University of Washington. Her first full-length poetry collection is<a href=\"http:\/\/www.bearstarpress.com\/books\/platosbadhorse.htm\"> <em>Plato\u2019s Bad Horse<\/em><\/a> (Bear Star Press, 2006). Her second collection,<a href=\"http:\/\/www.spdbooks.org\/Producte\/9780984028535\/borrowed-tales.aspx\"> <em>Borrowed Tales, <\/em><\/a>was released from Stockport Flats in December, 2012. She is the author of three chapbooks, most recently <em><a href=\"http:\/\/www.deborahwoodard.com\/hunter.shtml\">Hunter Mnemonics<\/a> <\/em>(hemel press, 2008), which was illustrated by artist Heide Hinrichs. Her translation the Italian of Amelia Rosselli, <a href=\"http:\/\/www.deborahwoodard.com\/dragonfly.shtml\"><em>The Dragonfly<\/em>: A <em>Selection of Poems 1953-1981,<\/em> <\/a>was published by Chelsea Editions<em> <\/em>(2009). She teaches hybrid creative writing and literature classes at the <a href=\"http:\/\/hugohouse.org\/classes\/catalog\">Richard Hugo House.<\/a><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Phantom I can play each part, be Hamlet, hands in pockets, and then the bikers disappearing over the lip of the grave. Plus, the dog\u2019s four legs. There\u2019s a cold gold light, everything shaking and Ophelia newly dead. My initial &hellip; <a href=\"http:\/\/kathleenflenniken.com\/blog\/?p=1501\">Continue reading <span class=\"meta-nav\">&rarr;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[100,37,421,8],"tags":[486,485],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/kathleenflenniken.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1501"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/kathleenflenniken.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/kathleenflenniken.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/kathleenflenniken.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/kathleenflenniken.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1501"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"http:\/\/kathleenflenniken.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1501\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1508,"href":"http:\/\/kathleenflenniken.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1501\/revisions\/1508"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/kathleenflenniken.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1501"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/kathleenflenniken.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1501"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/kathleenflenniken.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1501"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}