the end of liberty

“who the hell is this?
pagin me at five forty six
in da mornin
crack a dawnin”

in reality, it was at 7:15 but close enough. let’s establish one thing- i am NOT a morning person. getting up early was cool since that will equate into gettin more conversation in, additional feedback on my poems and (the norm in my life) more chicanery. big negative… actually having to get up at that hour.

the sun was blazin through the back windows of the house, giving the rooms the most luminescence of the day. residual snow was picked up by the winds, adding sparkle to the day and the trees sung their silent lyrics to the tune of a crisp wind and all i could write was some hallmark type shit. note to self- the early AM is not your optimum writing time.

from there we moves on to a writing exercise that, in my estimation, was designed to generate new approaches to writing as opposed to birthing new poems. i am probably saying this since i found the exercise to be very challenging and could not generate anything close to a cohesive poem. still, we shared and got to hear some more good work and constructive critique.

we ended by reading one last finished poem from our respective collections (read- oscar’s chapbook), handing out some extra exercises and packin up. the end looked like the final episode of “The Real World” where nobody wants to say goodbye but we all now better.

no worries. we’re meeting up again in a few weeks, see where our revisions have taken us, share new exercises and (maybe) submit some work for publication.

time to head to jersey for tata’s reading at spiralbridge…

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