What I’d Write About

I stay up all night and write.

Then I sleep, get up and start over again.

 I take a notebook and write when I go to the mall or when I go to restaurants.

 I listen to people and write what they say.

 I write what people say when I talk on the phone.

 I write what flows through my head even though most of the time it’s junk and doesn’t make much sense.

 I look at magazines and write the words I see.

 I’d describe the granite counter top I’m writing on if I felt like it then, I’d describe the edges.  Or,

 I’d write about the plastic bottles I took from the garbage can at the gas station the other day and the crotch of that fat girl I saw bent over cleaning her car of empty plastic bottles when I pulled in to get gas while she was throwing them into the can.

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  1. midcenturyman

    I don’t know how this clever poem came from well, I’ve said that before. anyway, it IS clever, makes you laugh or move your head from side to side I

    I bet every person who read this poem had NO idea that the ending would be what it was.

    I mean, I think that most poems should have surprise endings as a ‘period’ at the end of their poem which kind of sums the idea in an abstract way such that, it startles the reader. To ‘startle’ the reader out of their numbness or boredom or lack of being aware of anything interesting in the world.

    Like, when you’re standing in line, waiting to be waited on, or when you are pale and wan because no one will pick you up while you’re hitch hiking.

    So, you whip out, from your woman or manpurse, my little chap book and perchance you come across the poem “What I’d Write About”.

    “Yer first response is … Boing! That was unexpected! It’s funny in a strange kind of way. Then, smiles or maybe even a chuckle.

    The “Boing” is the stimulus that wakes you up since when you chuckle or laugh afterward, you smile and the world is ok. You’re not bored anymore.
    You find all kinds of things to look at, you’re smiling, you may even talk to the good looking woman standing in front of you.

    Well, that’s saying a lot of pretty maudlin shit about my poem. You’d think I’m thinking I”m a genius. I’m not. I’m just a guy who likes to write four, six, eight hours a day.

    According top the law of averages, one in ten will be somewhat special … special in terms of your ‘skill’ in terms of how long you have been making your writing an investment in time (because sooner or later it’ll start to pay off).

    That’s what I learned. It seems after these years I’ve finally found my
    voice. Who knows what will come out of it. It depends on my skill level doesn’t it?

    One thing I’ve noticed lately is, grammar and nice words and sentences and correct grammar are important … but, not more important than, what I refer to as, “… a good story well told..”

    “A good story well told,” moves forward. It moves through time it doesn’t stop to think endlessly about things which, stops movement. I think it’s a way of showing off and I say that because that’s an underlying reason why I sometimes fell into that cauldron of indulgence.

    I love “What I’d Write About”. I’m very proud of it. It tickles me since it’s not “Me” who wrote it. It’d be great if everyone had my little chap book where I’ve collected many many nice things to read. Scenes of looking back to a golden age, humor, and absurdity. Thanks … ks


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