But, Never Mind All That

[jellyjenn]

Let's go back to poetry, which is waaaaaaaaayyy more interesting. I have a significant handful of poems that were written over the last few weeks, which were responses to things He said, or continuings of barely begun conversations. No, really, we're not talking about Him anymore: the point is that, suddenly, my brain shook loose and I was writing about something other than my marriage. Roller coaster mindshift. Momentous. Enormous. Writing further and further away from the original Big Thing That Compelled Me To Write Again, and ever so slowly, new things started creeping in.

Now, I find myself able to write about anything, everything, whatever I want, not just in the grip of need, but because I feel like it. And I have been poking and playing with words so much, it's no longer weird or scary to go back and tweak. Edit! Pare and trim. Words as written no longer feel sacrosanct, and I am getting better at looking with a critical eye to rearrange and manipulate.

I don't really have a goal, here, other than self expression, no delusions of writerly aspirations for me, but beginning to feel like I am in charge of my voice is. Is! Really kind of everything.

tweaked after commentary from CM (drunken journal handing hubris!!):

midnight city sidewalks
splash sudden, heavy
oceans
world opens
elastic press
encompassing
expansion
hot wet person in my
hot wet
on my

tiny chin resting trusting
tiny tangled doctor
shouting confusion
agitation blissful
haze
but
where did they take my

impatient hand
pulling thick
cord
pulsing yank
and where is my ~
placenta rips
but where is my ~
stinging slides
relief
and angry
I am torn
but
I don't care
tiny person trusting
quiet

i.v.
eye roll gurney

drunks

surgical steel untethered,

clutching, where.