as you can see, divorce crept into one of the poems, but it was a fun one, kinda campy, so i give myself a pass. (and who doesn’t enjoy watching t. rex enjoy himself at the feast?)
wow — it’s day 11 for the tupelo 30/30 poetry project? it’s all a blur! i have no idea what i’ve written so far, and i’m guessing that’s a good thing: write ’em and let ’em go ’til the month’s over!
i really sweated it out today trying to get a poem for day 10 of tupelo press’ 30/30 poetry project. oy. i definitely bit off more than i could chew.
“here i am bringing the smut to day 09!” and while i mean it, i hope there’s also at least a couple redeeming qualities to it beyond its subject matter. there’s word play. there’s mortality… and escaping it. or trying to.
i intended to write the sonnets during the week and then on the weekend: ekphrasis, found poems, pieces with fragments. when will i learn to stop trying to tell the poems what to do?
you know you’re desperate when you pull out prose poem, list poem and ars poetica all in one day.
it’s possible that i’m thinking too much: it’s been known to happen. even still, i got out of today’s draft at least a few phrases i like — and they came after i let myself be playful. i have the most fun when i start with play earlier in the process, but every day is different!