the most convincing surrealism is 100% true
well, for the purposes of this post, i'm talking about magical realism here, but that doesn't fit nicely in a subject line.
in an hour i head to lunch was going to head to lunch* with a retired contractor to hear stories of houses that will put my imagination in its place. he's a friend of mine, one of those non-poets, though a writer, who's inexplicably really into poetry.** we're gonna talk about how houses are sentient, in their way, and not just in our heads; empirically.
when it happens, i think this conversation will change the scope and feel of the cycle as dramatically as the research (i've been putting off) into that part of town over the past 200 years. these are the two remaining components of these poems that keep me from believing it's a quickie, that it's already almost over at 30 poems. of course, there are still some rooms that haven't been tackled, so i wouldn't be surprised if that base number is closer to 45, and the research yielding another 10-15 or so. which is right where Freshwater Dredge fell (63 poems, 39 published.)
i still struggle with the form this book will take. it's extremely hard to make decisions (even small ones) about book design and overall form in the middle of the writing, but that's where i am and the ideas are coming to me. sure i make notes, but that's not very exciting.
self-indulgent ramble over.****
*apparently, i'm not. maybe mid-week. i'll probably forget to let you know. well, at least i have more time with that poem.
**side-note: sometimes i wonder why i'm so confused by people like this.*** i'm not a musician (beaten 1.5 songs so far on Guitar Hero, over a period of 5 days) and i consider music a non-nogotiable part of my life. it just has to be there. i wonder why there aren't more non-poets who consider poetry in the same way. gah, i just need to read my poetry history books and get some hot chocolate in me and i'll be fine.
***actually, now that i think about it a moment, does anyone else feel like there's some kinship of artists that we often forget to indulge? i mean, deeper or more across a spectrum than between street poets and academics. i mean, like, because you're a poet you find you can appreciate dance because of its poetry. that sort of thing. anyone? feel that?
****ug. apparently, it's not. but... now it is.
in an hour i head to lunch was going to head to lunch* with a retired contractor to hear stories of houses that will put my imagination in its place. he's a friend of mine, one of those non-poets, though a writer, who's inexplicably really into poetry.** we're gonna talk about how houses are sentient, in their way, and not just in our heads; empirically.
when it happens, i think this conversation will change the scope and feel of the cycle as dramatically as the research (i've been putting off) into that part of town over the past 200 years. these are the two remaining components of these poems that keep me from believing it's a quickie, that it's already almost over at 30 poems. of course, there are still some rooms that haven't been tackled, so i wouldn't be surprised if that base number is closer to 45, and the research yielding another 10-15 or so. which is right where Freshwater Dredge fell (63 poems, 39 published.)
i still struggle with the form this book will take. it's extremely hard to make decisions (even small ones) about book design and overall form in the middle of the writing, but that's where i am and the ideas are coming to me. sure i make notes, but that's not very exciting.
self-indulgent ramble over.****
*apparently, i'm not. maybe mid-week. i'll probably forget to let you know. well, at least i have more time with that poem.
**side-note: sometimes i wonder why i'm so confused by people like this.*** i'm not a musician (beaten 1.5 songs so far on Guitar Hero, over a period of 5 days) and i consider music a non-nogotiable part of my life. it just has to be there. i wonder why there aren't more non-poets who consider poetry in the same way. gah, i just need to read my poetry history books and get some hot chocolate in me and i'll be fine.
***actually, now that i think about it a moment, does anyone else feel like there's some kinship of artists that we often forget to indulge? i mean, deeper or more across a spectrum than between street poets and academics. i mean, like, because you're a poet you find you can appreciate dance because of its poetry. that sort of thing. anyone? feel that?
****ug. apparently, it's not. but... now it is.