Finally, after a protracted dry period, I am working on a fairly lengthy poem inspired by an article in the New York Times Magazine last Sunday about Memory Palaces and how to remember the unmemorable as well as the memorable.
It wasn't one of those poems that came half completed into my mind, as sometimes happens because my helpful muse shoves a bag into my hand with the all the pieces ready to go, ever motherly. No. This time, because I had spurned her so long, I had to search for it, dig a little in the hard earth of words that didn't want to be formed.
It isn't finished yet, and I'll resist the impulse to put it up anyway, probably not for long.
Today I slept late and spent a leisurely hour or two writing the lines that, almost like the place they memorialize, etched themselves into my mind all night long, between the dreams.