Broken Pattern by Bo Carpelan   In our oldest stories, turns are often catastrophes. Lot’s wife looks behind her at her home and is punished with desiccation. It’s as if God vaporized her exile’s tears, leaving only a mineral crust.  And Orpheus, master poet, turns to the sound of his dead wife’s steps following him out of hell…is it really Eurydice? Because he’s disobeyed the gods who have told him he mustn’t see her until they’ve reached the upper air, she’s taken from him forever. Catastrophe, these stories say, is a turn back toward the place or person you’ve lost. I had a tooth for such catastrophe when I was in my twenties—what callow young writer doesn’t? So it was probably the tormented imagery…