What We Expect Of The Poet: Something Interesting (2015-07-18)
II. There Was A Time When I Was Writing Poems
There was a time when I was writing poems far too quickly for them to be properly filled up with whatever it is that good poems are filled up with. I knew this, but still it was hard to turn off the typewriter and go mow the damn lawn. Finally I decided to confide in my friend, the Other Poet. I called him on the phone.
"Hello," he said. "I can't stop writing poems," I said, "I just can't stop the flow. For the last three days I've been writing poems almost constantly. You wouldn't believe the pile of poems I have on my desk. I'm almost out of erasable paper. My ribbon is in need of changing. My wife thinks I'm headed for another nervous breakdown. My dog shat in the kitchen last night because I forgot to walk him. Even when I'm on the toilet, I keep getting lines for poems. I'll never have time to revise them and polish them properly. I'm writing too many poems. I need help."
The Other Poet said: "Is this a crank call?"
(Excerpt from “The Art Of Prosody” chapter of my book Cold Pigging Poetics)