Another week has gone by without a poetry posting, they are still being written but the ‘class’ has had no ‘leader’. The reason why is because of a cataract operation she has had, normal services should be resumed shorty.
One has continued to write them, or at least put the bones and flesh upon paper, ready to stitch up as a Frankensteinian creation. Plucking parts from here to place there, or discard altogether. Placing a little life into the body so as to see how it moves, graceful is the aim, but it rarely is anything other than clunky, lurching around the room, leaking.
What a lovely image.
However disturbed that vision, One cannot describe the process any other way. Swathes of text can be circled and arrowed to re-arange places, crossed out, reversed, placed back in again, slightly different, crossed back out again, and given life through voice. Only then will one decide whether the life be removed and the process restated or left to heal and bloom.
One then ends up asking…”Is this a blessing or a curse?”