MOODS

Whoa, Rachel B. Glaser. Where are you going with that woman thing in your pocket. It's like a smart drape laid over an otherwise practical poem. Drape! Quit with that voice, "Woman thannnggggg...." You sound like James Franco.Can you take Woman Thing on a bus? In an airport? On a bench? With a half-pint of other liqueur present? I don't need another liqueur. I just want whatever that woman thing is. I want to hold it in my pocket. No, I want you to hold it just out of my reach. WOMAN THING! I've never seen Streetcar Named Desire, but I know that scene where the main character is yelling, "Stella!" That's not me. I'm whimpering over on the side. "Woman thing?" It's so placid and concrete and solid and a rock. I have a rock I've collected from a beach in Connecticut. It has the perfect weight and density. It feels just right in my hand. I like when you hold the WOMAN THING right in my face, and I can fantasize I'm holding this rock. Hey, Woman Thing! Is this what it's like to be writing about a Woman Thing? What is so thing about a woman thing? Rachel B. Glaser, how do you know? I think the B. stands for THING!! Which isn't a very sensible use of the word B.But that's what Rachel B. Glaser knows everything about. Poems and POEMS! and, "Poems?" and Poems with those tildas on either side of the word. But I'm not going to type them in here. That way you know what it's like when a reader like me encounters the Woman Thing in Rachel B. Glaser's poems.