Skip to content

november poem-a-day, day 25

November 25, 2010

Once inertia sets in, it’s hard to return to writing every day, eesh! The four days I missed went by in a flash. It would be really easy to let weeks and weeks go by, I think. And you all know how I hate it when weeks and weeks go by without a single draft.

Anyway, the opening line of this came to me while I was in the shower today. I was thinking about the PAD prompt for today (write an animal poem). And I was thinking about the manuscript I just put together; in it, there is probably more dead deer imagery than there should be. So when the line first line of this came to me, I resisted, told myself, “Enough with the dead dear poems.”

But that’s the editor talking and I am not supposed to listen to her. She did her job on the manuscript revisions, and she is supposed to keep her pointy little nose out of the writing side of things. So, I offered to give the critic some air time in the poem’s title, and she agreed to stuff her face with food instead of yammering on and on at me. (Sometimes we are a good team — except that my belly hurts, which isn’t fair considering she’s the one who ate too much.)


  1. November 25, 2010 9:34 pm

    What a great series of observations! My favorites:
    “That heat leaves the flesh
    because it has someplace else to go. That shivering
    is how the skin succumbs to loneliness.
    That limbs stiffen within minutes of a lover’s good bye.”

    • November 26, 2010 9:30 am

      thanks, dave! the poor things. the only thing more disturbing is my fascination with them. 🙂

  2. November 25, 2010 10:49 pm

    You should shut that editor lady up more often – this is really great (but I haven’t read all of your dead deer poems, so I don’t know if it’s my favorite one…)

    • November 26, 2010 9:32 am

      yes, donna. i need to shut her up more. trouble is, she’s a pushy broad. you know, redheads. difficult people to be around. 🙂

  3. November 26, 2010 2:46 am

    Shudder. In the best way possible. So very desolate and beautiful. Our inner censors think they are protecting us, but really, we have to learn to listen to them and shoo them away, if necessary.

    I thought also of Julie Buffaloe-Yoder’s poem, “Don’t Write a Poem About Rape:”

    Happy Thanksgiving to you…hope your weekend will be restful and inspiring.

    • November 26, 2010 9:38 am

      hi, hannah! thanks for coming by to read.

      (and thanks for the link; i read about half of the poem and needed to take a breather. i’ll go back to it, for sure. i think i’ve heard it — or heard about it — before, and it’s a vivid reminder that we should write about the things we’re told not to write about. and yes, a reminder that the editor — be it one in our heads as in my case or in real life as in the post you reference — have no place on the writing side of the equation!)

  4. November 26, 2010 4:34 am

    I don’t think I’ve ever seen a dead deer at the side of the road, but there was the one my husband skinned while the children looked on…
    I agree, the editor lady has to keep her nose out of the writing side of things.

    • November 26, 2010 9:42 am

      i live out in the country in upstate new york, and we see them all the time. live ones, too, of course.

      according to reports (i think there’s even a picture somewhere), my fascination with dead deer started when i was a little girl. i grew up in maine, my dad (and most of the dads) was a hunter and every fall he’d get a deer (a buck) and it would hang in the garage by its feet. apparently, i would linger near its face and poke its tongue back in its mouth. i don’t remember that specifically, but i do remember touching the fur, the shoulders …

  5. November 28, 2010 8:40 pm

    I like your dead deer poems, and this one is super, even the dead grin. I like the lines Dave liked, too.

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: