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Thursday, May 30, 2013

She Said Tell Stories Manuscript...Trinida

Compiling the manuscript. Tedious in many ways: fonts, ordering, printing, scanning. The poems are written. Have too many poems already so no need to write more. Just compile and send out. Looking for a new agent, a publisher...tedious.
The writing part is the exciting part, the performing, the attentive crowds, the response. The creating part is the important part, everything else feels like post-production, after-party cleanup.

But it must be done.

Here is another poem from the manuscript:


I didn't think I
Could get you out
Of my head
Your persistent heat
Your red dust breezes
The prayers we swallowed
The songs we sang
Are dancing thorough
My head still

I didn't think I could
Come back and live
This life
Without spirits
Without visions
Without all night sojourns

But you let me leave
Like you let me come
And I'm here plotting
Ways to return to you
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