SIP Day 48, wearing a grey tank and white jeans, writing while sitting at the desk in my home office; 89 degrees outside today.
I recently saw a colleague publishing “spine poetry” made up of book titles. I like a poetry challenge so I set my hand at creating some poetry. This was my first pass:
Becoming wise about this life;
Extraordinary Bodies in and out of the garden,
Close to the bone; crossing to safety
The other side of paradise
The next poem I wanted to be about the pandemic, with a nod to John Snow who first created the cholera map of London, which taught us so much about the spread of infectious disease:
Before, during, after
the year with no pants:
The monster at our door;
Changes in the land;
A room of ones own in exile (and other stories).
The body in pain; dead certainties
Homesick prisoners of the American dream.
How much is enough?
Here comes everybody.
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