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      January 16, 2019A Few Questions Before We Go OnPrartho Sereno

      Who gathered the straw and the twigs?
      Who wove the nest and laid the egg
      of this world? What patient one sat
      and warmed it till it broke out in octopus
      and chickadee, walrus and snake?
      Who came up with all the comings and goings?
      The breathing and eating. Sleeping
      and waking. Who conjured the laugh?
      Who thought up sex and where
      we drop when we fall in?
      Who dreamed the river of tears?
      Who charmed the embryo’s polliwog body
      to flower into elbows and ears?
      Who jolted the heart to throb?
      Who thought up growing old?
      What melancholic dramatist chose loss
      for every scene—tragic, comic, slice-of-life?
      And who is it that can’t stop humming
      as she sweeps up the stardust backstage?

      from #61 - Fall 2018

      Prartho Sereno

      “Thankfully my muse is a nag. I can’t go long in the numbing marketplace before she begins grouching, and if push comes to shove (i.e., I resist), she always wins, and off we go to the Redwood Forest or the Mendocino Cliffs or the Cabin by the Lake in Upstate New York. You could say I’m naggingly blessed.”