That's a sort of come-hither sound, not an evocation of anger, friends. Not a vowelless cuss.
Sorry for all the radio silence here. I'm coming back with reviews--it's summer, after all, and I have time to think of else but grading comp essays and filling out assessment paperwork. (The word assessment deserves to be strapped to a sheep's back and trotted out of the City. Is that a thing? It is now.) Meanwhile, will you settle for my review of Traci Brimhall and Cole Swensen's newish books in the current issue of Beloit Poetry Journal? Check it.
