I followed today's prompt from napowrimo.net to write a poem of one line or a poem of many one lines (a collaboration of seemingly unconnected lines). This can be challenging, to find the pull and the tension, and to create space and meaning between multiple different lines. The team at NaPo found a great poem of many lines by Joe Brainard you can read here. These lines create a story without the confines of the idea of narrative or timeline. It's almost a curation of poems, or a gallery of words.
Rough
A fan recycles breath back into breath.
Healing comes with salt on the wound.
I want to shear off my clothes.
You were here once, maybe.
Stanza is just another word for head or hip or collarbone.
I collect words of the body how I collect trinkets on the shore.
Disassemble the assembly of my eyes.
I have torqued my identity within expectations.
The galaxy of her hands holds no surprise.
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