With Or Without Prompts
There are times when even with prompts,
no ideas come forth to generate other ideas.
Even my usually dependable Bibliomancy fails
to call forth the Muse and help me with her breath.
I am somewhat bereft of inspiration today,
the poem struggles with its gestation and form.
Much like the books I seek to bring out of me,
it is mostly aggravation, not inspiration which gets
the words out of my head and onto the blank page.
The research I do is both necessary and ultimately
unimportant to the stories since it doesn’t occur
in the everyday world at all: what need for veracity?
Yet, I feel there should be enough reality to anchor
things to some sort of consensual objectivity.
Often I’d glance at the time and make feeble
resolutions about when I would stop reading this
and start in on the research, which, of course
was vaguely elsewhere and else-when.
---Purple Mark 070912
- “Often I’d glance at my watch and make feeble resolutions about when I’d stop reading this filth and start in on the research; which, of course, was vaguely elsewhere.” Robert Twigger. The Extinction Club. (William Morrow, 2001) Page 139.