I don’t believe in writer’s block. Or muses. I do believe in depression, habit, boredom, self-fulfilling prophesy. And Chaos. I believe a poem is a well-constructed box with drawers. Anything can go into it, but if you put all your energy into making the box perfect, the contents will suffer. And if you build a shoddy box…well.
April is National Poetry Month, and a lot of websites are offering prompts for a poem a day. This is something like that. But we’re not going to concentrate on building Faberge eggs. Now and then, we’ll consider form and function, but most days we’ll be working on the marbles and screws and old silver dimes to stash. Quantities. We want to get you loose-jointed and a little bit crazy. Later, you can work on polish.