Drunk and tired and thinking about a conversation I had recently with M (https://artandinsolence.com) so here we have it, a free-written rant for Day 3 of NaPoWriMo
I won’t write poetry
about birds / sheep / trees
or any of your other favourite
same safe premises regurgitated
bland and inoffensive sonnets about love unrequited
innocuous observations with tidy moral denouements
weak attempts at shock-factor Americanized to suit y’all
reminiscences on vague regrets that worked out for the better in the end
and cliched meditations on rain and thunder
and o! the sea! and all those words that went unsaid
yes I know I’d help your lit mag to reach its diversity quota
mentally disabled CHECK working-class CHECK woman CHECK writer
but honestly fuck your “40 lines and under”
I’ll stick to writing the reality I see
all blood and dread and trauma
and ugliness and grief
and battery and bad men
because the thing that’s trying to kill me
is the one who controls the pen
my murderer is the author
of all my shitty poetry
these words aren’t even mine
so you can’t have them either
not for clout or a Twitter feature
and certainly not for fucking free
You’re such an intelligent writer that it makes me smile. And btw, I 🧡 you.
Awww you’re the loveliest!! <3 wishing you and your kids a peaceful Easter break :) xxxxx
Hope you’re ok! Xxx