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Short poems. Tonight is luxurious, because I can sit here as long as I want, but my brain is stuck on short poems.  I swear that my interest has nothing to do with laziness.  I could use short poems to break rule #2 (no bullshit) easily, but I reckon that I’m about to find out that short poems take much longer.

My dogs won’t stop barking. We live in the woods, and Mishkin, the puppy, keep coming back with a bloody face.  It is something elses’ blood.  That wasn’t my short poem, just an irrelevant life detail.

Emily Dickinson! No one does short like her.  I wish her ghost would visit me.  My favorite is “Wild Nights–Wild Nights!”:

Wild Nights – Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile – the winds –
To a heart in port –
Done with the compass –
Done with the chart!

Rowing in Eden –
Ah, the sea!
Might I moor – Tonight –
In thee!


And Haiku, that’s short, but requires too much counting. Tonight I’m going to keep it short, but I’d also like to try an epic one this year.  In that case, I’d bend rule#3, whole poems only.  Maybe I could take a week and post one section per day.  I’d have to take a week off from work. And when I do take weeks off, I don’t usually want to write epic poetry.  But, still, I’d like to try something super long.  Later.

Ever since yesterday I’ve been thinking about Robert Creeley, who I think Grotowski probably would’ve liked.  “Projective verse” and “art as vehicle” are very similar concepts. “The act of the poem” is something I can get down with. I really love his “A Token”: “My fair lady with soft arms / what can I say to you–words, words, / as if all worlds were there.”  Wow.

Yesterday a former student reached out to us and asked for help. All day long I’ve been thinking about what kind of support he needs.  Sometimes it is good to write about the things I think about most, but if that doesn’t work I’m just going to write a short poem about whatever. Grotowski would proud.

My Lost One

My lost one,

in the foolish brain of someone who believes you

should bury your knapsack of bones in the field and who

would offer you a home

on a hillside and a job working the soil,

it works.

This kindness is a drug, and it could work.


Yep. I was right. The short ones are harder than the long ones.  This took three hours! and I’m not even blown away.  But, I discovered a new trick, “The Chocolate Thief”.  In our house we usually have chocolate, and as adults eat it, my girls notice and decide that there’s a chocolate thief in the house.  Tonight I played chocolate thief before coming in here, and wouldn’t let myself leave for more chocolate till I was done.  See? I’m learning so much.  Happy Saturday!