What? I think so. It’s May 2, 2013 today.
I’ve written some poems and I’m a rhymer so far. I find that I need to write them out as they come to me. I’d like to think they are unsolicited and sort of useless, poems… a lost art, but I am seeing now, that poetry allows us to give a snapshot of a complex thought.
My first public one is “homage to the microwave” and it’s a funny poem about a crazy night wherein I actually did exactly as the poem suggested.
My second public one, “Houses” did NOT end up the way I had intended. right at the middle of the third stanza, where I start talking about houses, it took a decidedly mature tone. I was all lalalala, little kid memory and then BOOM, it just shifted gears. I am haunted by my childhood home; so much went so very wrong there. It stayed with me. I might have left that home, but it never left me.
Anyway, I’ll add to this section as it adds to me.
Thank you.
Grass Oil by Molly Field 