Written Out
Yesterday I wrote for thirty minutes
Wasted, transcribing onto a page left in a black bin.
Writing - imagine
Imagination sucked into sprawled lyrics
spinning themselves into anecdotes, with a question of reality.
(Life.)
The day you fought with your parents
Walked calmly outside to hit the wall (again and again).
Stumbled back inside in silence
And stripped the paper into incoherence.
(Writing.)
Last week I wrote my autobiography
I accelerated from six to sixteen in
Twenty-two pages flat.
My life in writing. Imagine
Memories of experience, emotion
Sucked into
black and white.
NB: I'm having real trouble make this one work - any advice badly needed and highly appreciated!
posted by editors @ 10:01 AM
3 Comments:
this is the basis for a very interesting work and it's almost there, but in mho the balance between big ideas (the abstract imagoimnation, chaos, etc.), and the humdrum of existence (the actuality of coffee spoons and black bins, the wall etc.) is a bit too much towards the former... needs a bit more little things
ok, thanks, i'll have a go at that and edit again!
x
right, i've had another stab at it, couldn't change much, tbh, but had a go. thanks!
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