I’ve always found that poetry just sort of “arrives” when it’s ready. Sometimes I’ll be falling asleep, softly slipping into silence, and a line or an image will pop into my head and I’ll have to roll over, find my phone, and write it down. Other times, the whole thing arrives at once. One time, I was on the rower and a whole 8 lines just came spilling forth. I will absolutely massage words, play with structure, consult a thesaurus, craft around an emotion – but typically the original idea does not come from me. It is merely delivered.

Like the below – delivered one morning while driving to work in the desert. I don’t question it – I just write it down.

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