That Is Poetry

Dear You,

It’s the middle of April, aka Poetry (Writing) Month, which means all I care about right now is poetry. But really, all I ever care about is poetry. By which I mean I care about life. Like the other week, being out with my queer and trans friends at the Queer Youth Assemble rally, and how we were all dressed up in our Most Gender finery, all of us chorusing to each other: “Dude, girl, you look fabulous.” Like how every time my partner and I drive past a house that still has a Dan Kelly sign in the yard—even though he motherfuckin’ lost—my partner says “looo-ser” and I make a fart noise. That is poetry. Like sitting in my backyard and watching squirrels leap and roll around in unbridled squirrely joy. Like sitting in my backyard and all the sounds: two sparrows flying so low overhead I can hear the soft whirr of their wings; the kids down the street shooting hoops, thump thump squeak thud swish. That is poetry. Like driving to the grocery store and seeing a van with “Grilled Cheese Mobile” stenciled on the back. Like cooking dinner while listening to my favorite radio station, and the DJ playing two of my all-time favorite songs in a row: The Replacements, “Can’t Hardly Wait,” followed by The English Beat, “Save it for Later.” Even my kids waking up at the buttcrack of dawn today, and waking me and their dad up, too, and how I’ve been slightly bleary all day and the world feels worn around the edges. To quote Marty Cain: Motherfucker that is poetry.

All month, I’ve been working on a book of prompts and exercises for NaPoWriMo—or for anytime, really. And it’s finally done, and it’s available for pay-what-you-want (starting at $0) in my Ko-fi shop. (I’m also posting one prompt each day on my Tumblr, so you can follow along there, too, if you like. I also made a post there with links to some other poetry-related resources.)

Maybe one of these days I’ll start sending out regular missives here, again. In the meantime? There is poetry.

xoxo,

JLM