Two Erics? How did that happen? Is it a coincidence or kismet? Let’ give ’em both a read before we decide. Here’s our first, Eric Forsbergh. The Love Poetry of Eric Forsbergh My Lucky Jacket My lucky jacket drapes me pleasingly: a cross between the wings of victory and an asbestos fire suit. A cloth talisman, it buffs my confidence to polished brass. After all, I wore it during our initial kiss. It’s my fabric shield the eyes of trolls roll off. On my motorcycle, in the rain, I swear this jacket wards me from a lightning strike. You’re my loving skeptic. You claim it’s not a coffin or a cure. You claim what counts will rise within my skin. My lucky jacket? Some days it’s like a rescue blanket made of foil: shiny and…
Week Four: Eric Forsbergh, Susan Simonds, and Eric Goodman
