prose poetry

cosas de caza

Further to my last post here about the crooning that woke me in the middle of the night – which turned out to be a cat defending its prey, rather than one of the locals serenading me outside my window – I’ve been watching one of the semi-ferals play with a rat in the wet grass this afternoon. He was keen on bringing it up to the verandah for me to have my part, but I assured him I wasn’t hungry, so he shared it with one of his brothers instead.
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that time of year

The fact that it’s almost Christmas doesn’t mean I am any less busy, so, having no time to write, here’s a festive photo:

And an old, but seasonal, poem, slightly tinkered with. Well, it was a poem with line breaks, but the page format splits the long lines so awkardly I’ve given up and pretended it’s just prose:
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prose poetry II

I said yesterday that I might post something I’d written at the American Poetry workshops in Nottingham, and then it seemed presumptuous to include what is no more than an initial workshop draft in a post where I mention so many recognised and respected poets, so I didn’t.

Here, though, is a piece from the prose poetry workshop that I may come back to and try and see where it leads. The words in italics are from a piece by Charles Simic.
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I’ve just been in Nottingham, at the university, attending a series of poetry workshops and trying to re-connect to poetry. I’m not sure I’ve achieved that, but since the blog hasn’t been updated for a week, it seems appropriate to post something about the weekend, and, maybe, something I wrote while there.
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