Friday, January 15, 2010
I've been writing in little fits and starts since mid-December. Three lines here, two there, a rare complete thought every few days.
I write this way sometimes, creating a big pile of fragments until I reach some invisible tipping point and suddenly see how they are all connected to some central moment or idea or how they are really already a poem, and my job is to puzzle all those pieces into the right place.
It's just not happening this time. I've got lots of pieces but they just seem random with a few recurring themes: desire, geography, a couple of stunning lines about the laws of physics, memory, time.
Today, my fragments are stubbornly remaining fragments.