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meat and potatoes

March 28, 2010

The poem I attempted for today (posted here at “i am maureen”) is far less than the gift from the universe yesterday. Less haunting. Less poetic. Less gritty. Thanks for that word, Jill. I like it. I like gritty. I want to be gritty, I think. But I also want to be pretty. Any chance those two things are not mutually exclusive? But I digress. Today’s poem is less everything. Less. Less. Less.

The poem is also exactly the kind of poem you have to write if poetry is your meat and potatoes, if it’s what you build things on. If you need poetry to survive, you have to indulge in some unpalatable ones pretty regularly. How many calories in a poem, anyway? Ugh. I’m sure I don’t want to know.

P.S. I’m looking forward to writing many more unpalatable, high caloric, instant mashed potato poems in April for NaPoWriMo. Doesn’t that sound irresistible?


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