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One more thing worth doing

April will be the busiest month of perhaps my busiest semester of college. But in spite of (or because of?) the stresses of multiple commitments and heavy work loads, I’m adding a creative writing challenge to myself as well.

“Good suffering” is suffering I declare to be necessary for my development, that I can convert into power & knowledge.

–Pascal Bruckner

National Poetry Writing Month (or NaPoWriMo) is an open project that asks you to write a poem a day, all through April. You can share or self-publish if you want, but there’s no other requirements besides to yourself.

I’m choosing to share them, starting with this surreal little ditty I wrote on the Light Rail home last night (after the jump). I’m starting a little late, but oh well…


The New York Times, and the power

that was never really there. Three girls

and the dream they spoke

in. Six false eyes, and visions

of thoughts printed not on paper.


The first one said:

“Paint me liquescent and gold—

ladylike—pale and strangely beautiful. Not

in shadows but in pain, because the sunburns

are peeling.” Three apples, and the second

didn’t speak. “Never waste,” she thought,

“a good crisis.” No mouth,

taut body of canvas, uncensored, without praise.

“Even reporters have to make


a living.” Like storms before clouds

or the wet touch in our mouths

caused by the damp, clean smell, the third dream

apple girl whispered into the desert rain: “Paint this wall green,

miraculous and hard,

like the bordering islands


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