A Curious Factor
innumerable periods spent
hunched over a roll-top desk
just to exist on paper
a curious factor
world-propelling
the sum of limitless hours
plus a mounting word-count
minus the mundane measures
a curious cause
mental time-travel
insufferable phases endured
pacing threadbare carpeting
just
to exist on paper
a curious factor
creative tumult
rhythm & cadence
clause & comma
perish to publish
**
I saw this amazing tombstone of a roll-top desk. It is deep in a Nebraska City cemetery and the inspiration for this little poem: a writing exercise for the sole purpose of stretching creative muscles I hadn't managed to use over the weekend with the arrival of a monster migraine headache. I had fully intended to plant myself at my own writing desk on Saturday afternoon, after acquiring my Poe-Ka-Dot socks from Bookmark on Spring Garden Road. En route home from my nerdy errand I came down with a monster headache, the remnants of which are still present as I post this. I need to finish my Patti Smith inspired writing exercise. I need to make time for it in the evenings. It needs close and careful edits to not exceed the goal. I can afford the time, I just need to turn off the TV and focus. Re-watching Mad Men in its entirety may have been the wrong choice with a writing exercise looming. Ha!
Happy Tuesday!
In propinquity,
Nic
I love this! It speaks directly to the immortality gained by anyone who has ever written a sentence, drawn a line or dropped a note. It's beautiful and simple and eloquent and and and ...
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