One of the other exercises we did in the writing session Sunday at the Glass Lake Studio (see post below) involved picking a handful of words out of a bowl full of all kinds of words that were cut out of various publications and/or printed out on small strips of paper. The idea is to use whatever words you have in your handful and turn them into a poem. Here’s what I wound up with, which came out amazingly coherent. (The words that chose me from the word bowl are bolded.)
Why waltz, I asked,
when you can whirl like a dervish,
so alive in group travels
into a common center of gravity.
This is not an orderly universe,
after all,
no easy sojourn.
So much happens behind our backs,
after all.
Why waltz,
husbanding that obscenity of repetition,
that age-old rustle
of corrupt fascism?
Instead,
germinate, condense, enthuse,
embrace like a shark,
like loping sailbirds,
foretelling the integrity
of feeling lost in the stacks.
Isn’t that cool??!!