i wrote two poems this week. just regular old poems made of words adjusted to the left margin. i honestly wasn’t sure if i still had it in me—to translate feeling into language. into language all my own. this project / this making has been as much of an escape [from “trying” to “write” “poems”] as it has been a practice in creation using found material. anyways i really like one of the poems and sort of like the other so that’s cool. thanks for being here.
Comments
No posts