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Doing Things Promptly

Yesterday was mildly insane productive with 19 poems, most of which were utter shite underachievements but still could be pillaged for words or phrases.

Because I am insane like a challenge, and since there are multiple lists of prompts for poetry month, I’m going to do them all, aiming for at least 3 poems per day.

Amy King pointed to Daisy Frieds prompts and I’m doing the Brewer prompts and the Book of Kells prompts, which I already mentioned here, plus whatever poems naturally erupt out of normal course. That tend to be 1 every day or two and the 40 word year daily words which I think of as blog posts not prose poems and will extend out on either side of poetry month.

So am I writing? You betcha. Hopefully I can empty this brain. So far, nearly halfway thru, it’s been interesting.

The latest, possible non-dreck?

small town generalist

we don’t have enough bodies
for people to be narrow.
he loves all skirts, no fickle
stick-to-generation, size,
class, religion, coloring
and matched sense of
humor. that’s for the luxury
of choosy metropolises.
he’s mentally undressing
every woman (defined at
over 6, and under…
dead). when he talks
what of him that isn’t
hands is all eyeballs.
he winks. his innuendo
may be a stretch. his
references may be obscure
but he’s rarely subtle.
and no one sings “saved
a wretch like me” louder
than he on Sunday.

And I’m editing of course, the current and the last 10 month long train project. And reading like a maniac life is running out of time. Which is it continually.

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