not getting in the way...

I have thoughts that tell me what a poem should be, how it should look on the page, how the words should sound, that tell me there’s an audience (that’s the big myth, the dangerous myth) – but that’s probably when I’m thinking too much of myself, giving myself more credit than I should. That’s me getting in the way.

When I have no thought about the poem, no idea, no plan – then I’m surprised by the words and form that . And then I think yes – that’s the way it should be.

I get in the way too much. I want this. It should be this way. I know what I’m doing. The good poet doesn’t write. The good poet listens. Here, I make no personal claim of success or consistency. Most of the time I fail miserably. Or at least compared to what’s in my head.

What about all this writing in journals or notebooks? Do I give that up? Of course not. What I write there – and it should be a great deal – are the ingredients … dicing the tomatoes … turning on the oven … finding my baking pan … roasting the garlic and green onion … recognizing all the smells of the kitchen. They come.