30/30: Day Eighteen

Day Eighteen! I can't really believe I've written so many new poems. 

To write in transit is some of my favorite kind of writing. That's why I was so excited about that whole Amtrak residency thing, but then it was a big 'ole let down because of the fine print. Le sigh. I should just save up some money and Amtrak it from Seattle to somewhere I have friends and do that ish myself. 

I don't know what it is about transit, per se, that I find so generative as a poet, but some of the poems of which I am proudest I wrote en route from one place to the next. Being contained within in a single space while moving proves inspirational for my work; I write poems on the train, the bus, the ferry, the light rail. I think something about the very human realities of farewells and greetings, the singular and collective identities of people occupying a vessel together, and the simultaneous anonymity and intimacy of public transit...just does something for me--sparks my interest and imagination. I feel more open to possibility and more observant.  Everyone has a story of why they've chosen this vessel to move from A to B. I guess it always comes down to story for me, in a way. Even in lyric moments, the narrative behind the utterance is (almost) always a factor. Maybe I should've been a fiction writer...

Actually, I've been saying I want to try my hand at fiction for a long time now. Anyone out there have a prompt for me? For a short short?  A short story? Ha, after I write a poem a day for the rest of this month, perhaps I will write a short short everyday. (They will just turn into poems, me thinks. That's what has happened to all my attempts at fiction.)

Yesterday's poem was written and titled, "En Route." Today's was begun on the plane and finished this morning in bed; however, the subject of today's poem, "landscape / heartbreak no. 7, " is the narrative of transit and conversation from my landscape / heartbreak project. The progress and process of the writing of poems has been interesting (I haven't had enough coffee to think of a more apt adjective right now) to try to track as I move through it; there's not a one-to-one ration of walk = poem, though sometimes, after a walk, I come home immediately and start writing. Sometimes that doesn't happen because I have something to do after the walk (like dinner or meeting up with someone or going to a reading or party or something). Sometimes it doesn't happen because the person with whom I have walked has processed her story so much, I don't have a lot of imaginative space to work with...I don't know. I'm still trying to figure it all out. More on that later. 

Thanks again to those of you who've donated and been following along! I appreciate so much your readership and support. It makes it more motivating and fun to write knowing that people are actually reading, haha. Thank you, thank you, thank you.  

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