I want to apologize for cheating on the blog with real life: I spent my evening editing a Cimmerian story for possible inclusion in an application to a summer workshop, so this No Rules isn’t my usual extra story.
I’m going to share a poem, but first I want to plug a friend’s Tumblr: The Prose Project is an ongoing, yearlong project with the goal of encouraging writers to share 250 words (or more) that they’ve written each day. Unlike NaNo, anything is game, whether the text comes from a Facebook message to Granny, an incensed comment on a Jezebel article, or a journal article. (Flash fiction and story excerpts, however, also are acceptable.) And you’ve got nothing to lose by participating. Even if you just post at the bare minimum, that’s 91,000 words after a year. I’m hoping to set up (and sync up) a Tumblr account and do some posting of my own.
Now for my literary contribution: I’ve a found poem for you, a relic of my high school creative writing classes. I actually still like this one very much. With apologies to Sylvia Plath:
Leaving behind the noise,
You are graphic, red sand,
the peak of the wheat harvest.
I follow every caprice of the wind,
my periwinkles drenched
by the sweet smell of burning incense.
And I run, flaring in my skin,
a burst of iris,
stoked fecundity, slender,
ringing orange like a stellar carrot.
(I originated the wrong way, too.)
Crabs are near to shedding their shells as
aurora borealis takes your place.
You’ve never felt, or looked, so alive.
Stay tuned for Audrey’s No Rules Friday next week.