As life returns to normal, post-COVID infection, I thought it might be an idea to write some longer form poems for the next 30 days, to get me back into the business of routine. Fortunately, Twitter has provided an event for that: #NaPoWriMo, which is part of #NationalPoetryMonth.
Poem #5 is the last concrete poem, and we then move on. It’s often the case with my brain processes that there needs to be a couple of swings at the same subject before I get the delivery system correct. In this case, it’s a good poem, but the poetry isn’t right in this format. It needed a retool, which has subsequently happened in another way.
Thank you for taking the time to read, and please comment if you like this 😀
What we Made from the Ire Acrimony, story as definition much of what’s left amongst dust, behind musty walls: they thought it necessary to recount, each sordid item there they lie, path’s stones leading this into unknowns where certain language dies imaginary lining up, and as moments overlap one becomes the other it’s alright you can let it go the other becomes one moment overlaps imagery’s certain, dies leading this there, they lie every detail thought lost behind dust what now falls free: only me, the key.