Miles Davis + John Coltrane - ‘Round Midnight
In Kalamazoo for the night. My Grandmother fell and broke her hip last night and thus had surgery this afternoon. Seems to be doing well.
I am attempting to write an “ars poetica” for tomorrow. AKA a poem about poetry.
The dog has stolen my bed, probably for the better until I get this writing done. But I’m still making this face at her.
I’m in my folks’ new house. In their office/guest room/room-where-we-put-everything-we-don’t-know-what-to-do-with-yet, in the most comfortable chair we own, listening to Chet and Miles and John, with my 17 year old self hangin’ out in a photo frame behind me.
Last week when I wrote about not writing, I had some great, encouraging responses, aka helpful ass-kickings from people saying, “get to work!” Just so you know, I finally did. I wrote a poem that I really liked and was surprised by in the best of ways, and I also life-processed my little heart out. On eleven college-ruled 8.5x10 pages to be exact.
Alright enough fake procrastination writing. Back to the verse.
oh, and, just for fun, have a little Ringo to complete your evening.