panic manic speed post
AAAIIIII Yesterday (which was otherwise a good day) something AWFUL happened, which, like many of the awful things which happen to me, was my own fault: I left my poetry notebook on top of my car and drove off. Totally gone. This was not merely sad. I was supposed to post poems last night and I had been working on a cool sonnet sequence which had totally been stressing me out, but which was worth it, which I was going to workshop today... GONE.
Obvs I was too emotional to "rewrite" it last night, so I got up early this morning and wrote five sonnets in three hours (in a sequence no less) which essentially turned my brain to mush. Who needs to pass Greek quizzes anyway. Don't even care.
No, the problem is that I have to workshop it tonight and because I have angered the Poetry Gods my workshop partners are Justin, a third year who is working on his final poetry project with Claudia, so she loves his work (I don't) and Erica, the Rogers Fellow who was at the Iowa Writer's workshop. Who believe me spent more than three sleep deprived hours on their poems, because on is a year-long project and the other is part of a larger experiment with form.
So... yeah. That's happening at 4. Then I'm getting drunk.
One of them isn't even a sonnet. At 6:30 am it seemed like the last one didn't need to be a full sonnet, because it was from the point of view of a lecherous fungus, but having posted them online and consuming coffee, I see that a.) those two facts bear no ostensible relationship and b.) why did I decide it was really clever and different to write a quasisonnet from the point of view of a fungus? A horny fungus? Clever and different in my head, yes. I was chuckling smugly to myself from about 7 am to 9:15 am. Then I woke up fully and remembered that I have to read it aloud in front of everyone. NEAT.
The only things I feel good about right now, re: my sequence are
1.) I wrote it in three hours. I may be the only one who knows that, but it is possibly the most concentrated volume of poetry I have ever produced in the smallest amount of time. (I maintain sonnets are also more concentrated than other poems.)
2.) Totally did not give up after the loss of all that work. Was stoic and baddass.
3.) I called it "The Five People You Meet in Hell." Hehehe. That's still funny to me.
I'll post abt workshop if it doesn't outright squelch my soul.
Obvs I was too emotional to "rewrite" it last night, so I got up early this morning and wrote five sonnets in three hours (in a sequence no less) which essentially turned my brain to mush. Who needs to pass Greek quizzes anyway. Don't even care.
No, the problem is that I have to workshop it tonight and because I have angered the Poetry Gods my workshop partners are Justin, a third year who is working on his final poetry project with Claudia, so she loves his work (I don't) and Erica, the Rogers Fellow who was at the Iowa Writer's workshop. Who believe me spent more than three sleep deprived hours on their poems, because on is a year-long project and the other is part of a larger experiment with form.
So... yeah. That's happening at 4. Then I'm getting drunk.
One of them isn't even a sonnet. At 6:30 am it seemed like the last one didn't need to be a full sonnet, because it was from the point of view of a lecherous fungus, but having posted them online and consuming coffee, I see that a.) those two facts bear no ostensible relationship and b.) why did I decide it was really clever and different to write a quasisonnet from the point of view of a fungus? A horny fungus? Clever and different in my head, yes. I was chuckling smugly to myself from about 7 am to 9:15 am. Then I woke up fully and remembered that I have to read it aloud in front of everyone. NEAT.
The only things I feel good about right now, re: my sequence are
1.) I wrote it in three hours. I may be the only one who knows that, but it is possibly the most concentrated volume of poetry I have ever produced in the smallest amount of time. (I maintain sonnets are also more concentrated than other poems.)
2.) Totally did not give up after the loss of all that work. Was stoic and baddass.
3.) I called it "The Five People You Meet in Hell." Hehehe. That's still funny to me.
I'll post abt workshop if it doesn't outright squelch my soul.