That offhanded remark at AWP (“I haven’t been writing prose poems lately at all”) and the sudden realization that it was true have led to 34 prose poems since April.
I’ve written little else.
I poured some of them together over the weekend to get myself thinking about which poems to write to go in between the poems I’ve put together. Some of them I love. Some of them I’m not so fond of anymore. Some of them I don’t quite get. But I’m enjoying writing toward understanding whatever it is I’m doing. I enjoy starting with a word and moving outward, like a ripple. That’s how I’m doing this. From the word. A self-imposed writing exercise with legs.
I’m obsessed with that phrase “be bird for you” lately. Oh, do I want to be bird for you. Baby, I’ll be meat for you if only you’ll salt me clean.
A special message goes out.
It gets complicated. But I enjoy my little life.
