April 30, 2017 – repetition
I wasn’t invited to the White House
Correspondents’ Dinner last night.
It happens every year. Too bad.
They could have used my home-spun poetry
to lift the gloom. I’ll watch the video
or read the transcript later because
the press will surely fuck it up.
Maybe next year poets will be invited.
Anyway, there are more important
things to ponder. Things that also
repeat themselves. Like NaPoWriMo.
It’s my fifth year of observance,
of setting aside one month of daily
writing and blog posting, of poetry
production, of discipline and focus.
Over and over each day for 30 days.
It’s like fasting during Ramadhan,
one month of daily concentration
to set the rest of your year on
a righteous poetic path, a trajectory,
sort of. And it doesn’t really matter
what you do with the poems later,
if you revise them for possible
publication, or if you just let them
sit in a computer file until next year.
“If the song were sweet and helped
a soul, what matter the singer’s name?
The work was in the song itself
and not in the world’s acclaim.”
So said my fifth grade teacher.
I think she was a poet in disguise.