19 October 2009

At the desk

I am ignoring the bags of excess that are the result of last weekend's bookshelf-shifting. Instead I am sitting at my desk, at last, not cooking, not fretting. But there are so many unfinished poems! My path does not seem clear. Nothing is ready to submit to the NPC, with their tempting 3 big prizes and 10 covetable "commendeds". Not that I would expect one of my pieces to make that top 13 but none of them will, most certainly, if none are entered. I have one unfinished poem that is actually original enough that, if I pull it off, it might be able to hold its own in a competition. Two others are tied up somewhere else, and I am loathe to tempt fate by submitting them simultaneously. I work on this poem, and by 'work' I mean this: sometimes tweaking a word here and there, but mostly staring at the screen as though if I do that for long enough the solution will leap out at me. It was Paul Valery

who said it: A poem is never finished, only abandoned....

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