Rock
by Joanne Kyger
Hit absolute rock bottom
Are you there rock? No?
No rock on bottom
Recently I've been feeling a lack of confidence in my poetry. If I were to give myself a critique, it would be that I am not intelligent enough to write the poems I want to write. Why does it matter? Why can't I just write the darn things?
Tonight, before I go to sleep, I'm going to ask the Universe for Alice Notley's "stream-of-consciousness and automatism." I think Notley would tell me to loosen up. I really should try that. I've already had 5 cups of green tea today.
Whenever I attempt to write something, I write jibberish. Every writer tells me to keep writing. I have a poem in my mind, but I can't write it down. How can I know what the poem will be about, if I don't know how to write it? What words will be chosen or banished from my poem?
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