Hot dang! Trying to work on an episodic piece of poetry. Wild west. Eight, at present, vignettes. Grim for the most part. One at least humorous. Having great difficulty. At risk of causing disbelief in non-poets and mild amusement in poets, poetremy is labor. Hard labor. When it goes good, it well, um, it goes good. When it don’t, it don’t. I’m working with a lot of don’t right now. One must focus. Concentrate. Blue, true, flew, tattoo…
Yes, I’ve complained many times I “don’t do poetry.” That’s still true. This work has promise, though, so I’m sticking with it. That’s not the difficulty today.
Today, I’ve a remediation crew working away on the first steps of handling the ice storm damage. All you studly types out there wondering why I’m not about it myself, right? Simple. Sort of. Insurance. I hope insurance will cover most of the cost. Insurance people wouldn’t be thrilled with my credentials.
So, there are a couple of professionals at work. They’re not concerned with any of my self-imposed deadlines. I am. While I work here at the keyboard, they are going at it outside my office. The harder they go at it, the un-harder I go at it. Not making much progress with the poemetry. Already, they’ve caused me to have to relocate the router. Pull some bookcases. When I sit to see, plea, flee, shivaree, and just about have the thing figured, they fire-up their noisemaker.
So, I reckoned, no poemetrics gonna happen in all the noise and interruptions.
Not a problem. I’ll whip out a blog post.
Nope. No whipping-out today.
And hey! Lookit! Less than five-hundred words. Now if I could just find a picture of a kitty cat.