RWP says today"
It’s Day #25, and you may be getting tired. In Joseph Harker’s prompt today, let others do the heavy lifting of inspiration.
Keep an ear out for the first sentence (or even word) that is said to you after you read this prompt. (Poetic license: If the first few words are exceptionally boring, wait for the first uncommon or peculiar one.) Take that word/sentence — it could be “mango” or “exemplar” or “have you ever been to this Ethiopian restaurant?” — and build a poem around it. Maybe you have deep thoughts on mangoes or a narrative of heartbreak and spicy injera from the restaurant mentioned. Trust in fate.
after last night’s curry with the bass players my husband tossed and turned all night in self induced agony, so I was kept awake until he got up. I reckon I got no more than two hours sleep the whole night and I dragged myself out of bed this morning feeling murderous. I used the first sentence I actually took notice of today as the title of this poem. It was uttered by a chap called Lawrence Blackadder who was giving a lecture on playing acoustic jazz. I don’t know anything about music but the lecture was fascinating. It was enough to wake me up for an hour or so and I frantically jotted down some of his sentences. Such things as: ‘you’re playing anticipations;’ ‘the hierarchy of intervals,’ and ‘don’t voice the roots’. I thought of writing a villanelle, but am too tired to think so this is what arrived in my too knackered state.
The Gut has a Real Organic Earthy Sound
Because tonight you ate your weight
in king prawn korma
I must lay awake with a stuck
in a net
but it’s our bed
but it’s our bed
and I can’t help wishing
Stevie and I have already joked about this so hopefully he won't be offended. Now I must get some sleep.