Flattering.
I just found this on The Mag Blog:
“Kseniya Yarosh’s prose poem, Lemons, is full of readily accessible images that are delightful and enjoyable. In fact, after reading it for the first time, I chuckled like a doting grandmother reading a bedtime story for her sleepy-eyed, rosy-cheeked grandchildren. Yet, Yarosh’s piece is so much more, repeat readings inevitably reveal Yarosh’s clever subtly:
I stole the lemons you had been saving for your mother,
and peeled the skins off, so, even if discovered, their origin
would be uncertain and proof that they were yours
would be destroyed.
I suspect the narrator is an unappreciated girlfriend or wife looking for ways to annoy and, ultimately, end her relationship with her significant other. What makes this poem intriguing is Yarosh’s ability to reveal the narrator’s intentions through an inner dialogue of calculated scheming.”
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I’m not even going to bother commenting on how accurate that analysis is.
I need to start writing again.
