*I added this post in afterwards, out of some bizarre completionist, hyperscrupulous impulse I don’t understand, to have my whole month of November filled. Why? No idea. A sensible person would’ve just said, “fuck it, so there’s a big gap in my nonexistent NaBloMoPo.” But I guess I’m unreasonable. So that’s why everything is in purple green.
I had a professor in graduate school who tried to make the Romantic poets (Wordsworth, Shelley, Blake) more interesting by arguing that the natural world, and Wordsworth’s rambles through the Lake district with his sister Dorothy, were integral to the composition of Romantic poetry. She succeeded. I for one thought the professor’s argument was quietly brilliant in removing the strange act of literary creation away from what we think of as normally a static, seated process and instead, a mobile, dynamic one.
Just throwing off the shackle that goes from around the table leg to yours is an exciting idea. I think I’ll start my day with a walk around my block every morning, for one.
Of course, it can be hard to walk hundreds of miles to attend a wedding and write poems, but that’s what a quiet car and a PDA is for. Plus, this is America, and like Jack Kerouac and the neo-Romantic Beat poets of yore, a ramble through the bucolic English countryside has been updated to a scenic drive up the 101.
Some haikus I wrote while on the road:
Questions have smoothed brain grooves, worn
Holes in my eardrums #tweetku
Um, not quite a nature poem.
Cadences of Seuss
Syncopated language fun
Pop-art for the ear. #tweetku
Nor is this one. But these are new-fashioned haiku.
Bookstore’s wood pew, good
For musing koans, poems,
Soul concordances. #tweetku