Now I’m hunched over a typewriter i guess you call that painting in a cave...
...ad there's a word i can't remember and a feeling i cannot escape, and now my ashtray's overflowing, i'm still staring at a clean, white page, and morning's at my window and she is sending me to bed again. Well I dream of dark on the horizon
I dream a desert where the dead lay down- I dreamed prostitute, a child touching an old man in a fast food crown
Oh yeah I dreamt a ship was sinking There was people screaming all around And I awoke to my alarm clock It was a pop song; it was playing loud"
I always felt as if i didn't have either the ambition, ability or idea for a something longer than a narrowly triple-digit line poem. I have written a short story here and there, i like one called "nocturnal escapism" but even that one was so abstract and specific to a time in my life that it really does not stand alone.
yesterday i started a longer work that actually exists in paragraphs, and i am attempting to shy away from what my less academic essays become- poems without sensible line breaks.
It feels good to start something and armed with an actual idea, a concept of plot outline, and a method, I feel like whether or not this turns out to be a qoute unqoute success, as long as i finish it, I will have started.
As an anecdote-
sara, a lead character shares your name but with an "h." the sound just fits right, and it will most likely change, but for now, your phonetic likeness exists within the work.
later all,
logan
I dream a desert where the dead lay down- I dreamed prostitute, a child touching an old man in a fast food crown
Oh yeah I dreamt a ship was sinking There was people screaming all around And I awoke to my alarm clock It was a pop song; it was playing loud"
I always felt as if i didn't have either the ambition, ability or idea for a something longer than a narrowly triple-digit line poem. I have written a short story here and there, i like one called "nocturnal escapism" but even that one was so abstract and specific to a time in my life that it really does not stand alone.
yesterday i started a longer work that actually exists in paragraphs, and i am attempting to shy away from what my less academic essays become- poems without sensible line breaks.
It feels good to start something and armed with an actual idea, a concept of plot outline, and a method, I feel like whether or not this turns out to be a qoute unqoute success, as long as i finish it, I will have started.
As an anecdote-
sara, a lead character shares your name but with an "h." the sound just fits right, and it will most likely change, but for now, your phonetic likeness exists within the work.
later all,
logan