I had intended to post last night with my goals for this writing marathon and having failed to do so I feel as if I am already behind.

My goal is to write every day, not just every weekday. If it’s new scribbling, I’m holding myself to my three page rule from last time. I would like to work on Queen of the Steppe if so motivated, so I’m going to count revision as writing. Also, I would like to write at least one (new) pantoum because the journal is becoming all triolets, all the time.

Tonight? There are so many options, Joanne gives metaphor,
the Portland Art Museum an enchanting picture of arches I must return to, Jeannine the periodic table. So I confess to jealousy:

The whole world’s made of metal
to an astro geek, too heavy
with its many shells and layers,
banal in its scarcity.
Give me exploding pink shockwaves
of hydrogen, abundant mother
material whose lightweight arms
curve matter with the grip of gravity.

Real spark even if not high art. What fun.