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!
oh, my! it was a struggle to get today’s poem for tupelo’s 30/30 project. in fact, i pooped out after the first eight lines — couldn’t figure out where to go next. and so i did what felt unthinkable at first: i just let it go. i let it end right there where it was.
one reason today’s process and even the resulting first draft delight me is because i had a chance to be playful. it’s called (for now) “december sonnet #4: a saucy advent calendar for your man,” and it happened quite by accident.