I am Wo sans man
I am the Ater
I read Poe; try
My lips Tick
My bed Rocks
But I split Hairs
I’m writing a short play in verse using an non-rhyming 4/3/5/2 metered structure. Yet, last night, my play had no action; it was more a dialogue which was my original intention.
Most of my stuff has internal action; perhaps better suited for another medium? Anyway, I threw in a dagger and some ill-intent, the proverbial kitchen sink. The play is based upon a myth and I’m not far off the mark. In fact, it was actually a good note and relatively easy for me to address; a little polished steel waving around the Christ child should get the blood boiling this holiday season… That’s the hope, anyway. I want this experiment in language of mine to be born and born again.
My friend asked me who is looking out for my work, so when I die, it won’t end up in a dumpster with the rest of my personal belongings. That’s a good question. Are you archiving your stuff? You should.