This week, our prompt encourages you to run away with the circus. You can be a lion tamer, an acrobat, anything! Write a poem about your new adventure.
As I sip a dark red vanilla rooibos in a Seattle teahouse and type these words, I am feeling rather smug. Today is Hug an Author Day. Already, I have hugged fourteen dead writers (via Facebook, of course. I didn’t exhume them or anything. That’s just creepy). I have also hugged five living writers, among […]
My entry into poetry did not happen in a night. Oh, sure. It may look that way. One day I was calling poetry “cryptic nonsense” and practically the next, posting a lengthy poem on Facebook about lumberjacks, kitchen knives, Twinkies, and the persuasive powers of semi-colon eyelashes. Now, she’ll never take the credit for it—no, […]
You could say I’m playing around with writing a sonnet today, as long as your definition of “playing around” is broad enough to include tapping aimlessly on my desk to The Guess Who’s Bus Rider. Our Canadian columnist Matthew Kreider loaned me one of his famous Ticonderoga pencils this weekend. It keeps a terrific desktop 70s beat, […]
I found Paul Chowder at the Tip O’Neill building. He was in the passport office cajoling the bureaucrats into renewing his travel documents just days before his departure to Switzerland for some big international poetry doings because he didn’t realize he’d expired. I was there for my once-a-decade passport renewal even though I had no […]