Write hot, edit cold

None of it was good enough.

So you see, here, admittedly,

I understand the fire, a self-starter,
it makes decent fuel

the words work better than well.

It means I too- must end this way,

plain as day, Cremation

and yet

Fire scares me honestly.

It may be a miserable moment,

the next page, the new leaf, the blank slate-

Wait-never mind-what was said-dead-again.

Each time it becomes easier to name the wrong noun,

confound even myself, crosswords no longer help.

In other words

I shall not say,

See me

and I will match you.

I am simply sulphuring,

reeking with green steam.

Saturated, and I am too porous for this

laughing at my whole self,

the incompetence I relied upon 

and moments reborn

into better than imaginable-Memory.

Pretty-

All ways worth the weight in white.

Angels giggle at these simmering sounds

mistaken for a narrow fellow in the grass

making coils warm,

it was all the write words

fuming in the sun

without a bone to burn or pick

the ice ages will do the rest.  



Painting By McCord, George Herbert, 1848-1909 (artist); L. Prang & Co. (publisher) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Silly Chilly

Write hot?
I think not.
I should be composing in the cool air.
I should be writing in the frigidaire.
I just can't figure out how to fit quite yet-
but I bet
my ideas would last longer
my prose may sound stronger
it would increase my freshness-
although, no one has tested this.

But I have been told
when you work in the cold
it increases the racing speed
of the firing synapses I need.

The icebox stocks
are actually quite empty-
some left-over spaghetti,
some moldy cheese and condiments
some things growing antioxidants...
(ahh, the minimal groceries
of writers salaries)
While it is conceivable,
working in there still doesn't seem feasible.
Does anyone writing from an igloo
know if this is true?



Image By jean-lucien guillaume (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.