Purple Rain
The slow dance is a particular kind of memory, one of awkward clutching and hopeful movement without a clear destination. The Delaware Poetry Review has a whole issue dedicated to Prince, and my new poem "Purple Rain: Extended Version" found a home there. The first time I was asked to dance, in a West Virginia cafeteria with lowered lights, the song was "Purple Rain" and I remember my desperation as Prince wailed on and on and on and on.
