Sunday, June 17, 2012

Tea. How does the taking of tea leach energy from writing a poem?

Or put another way, do coffee drinkers squeeze more angst from each word?

Try an experiment. Drink several pots of tea in the early hours. Pick up a pen. Edit, if you can. No doubt, you'll be grabbing for toast.

And why, is angst necessary? Why squeeze words? Calm, the hurricane's eye.

1 comment:

  1. PERSONAL MYTH (3)

    Standing in the garden, he solicits the simplest anecdote. Baskets were blamming out of the air. She idly peruses the lilies as they rot in the unexpected dampness.

    Talk of home wintered, as the next door neighbors looked on. Their roof cracked on the bird nest, and somewhere legions of loading docks groaned without reward.

    it was clear the day would progress as planned, with the sun warming the grass, and the parade about to begin, would send its circle around the small and jubilant town.

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