Usually when I go somewhere different, I come back with lots of photographs I can use on the blog.
This weekend, though, I have been away at a conference. I took very few photos, but have returned with my mind awash with words.
I have been talking – and listening to other people talk – about prose poetry, ekphrastic poetry, cut ups and recycled poetry, poetry maps, polyphonic places and soundscapes, love poetry and the love of poetry, and a host of other things to do with writing.
There were plenty of bright spots in the conversations, with occasional flashes of dazzling clarity; some ideas look worth exploring in more depth, while others remain murky and quite unappealing.
In general, though, it’s all too immediate and the thoughts and ideas are tumbled together and somewhat out of focus.
Perhaps I should follow the example of the hotel windows overlooking the river and reflect.
don't confuse the narrator 