I have spent three weeks now on a poem that will neither resolve nor get out of my head. I cannot make it work at all. I don't know why it isn't working. I want to put my head through plate glass.
I know the feeling well; though, please, no plate glass. Your head has been the birthplace of many beautiful things, I mean, beyond its utility to you, which I cannot stress enough, given that you may not be seeing said utility quite right in current circumstances (Lord knows, I tend to forget the utility of mine when such things happen, but then I think "where would I keep my hat?" Sadly the answer to that is often "behind the couch.")
I won't vouch for the utility of this intuition, but it tells me that you should try the poem backwards, or, failing that, widdershins. Whichever way works or does not, have some good mojo.
It is still very much appreciated. In return . . .
I won't vouch for the utility of this intuition, but it tells me that you should try the poem backwards, or, failing that, widdershins. Whichever way works or does not, have some good mojo.
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http://www.sendspace.com/file/zad0xm
(I fear I may have gotten a bit off track.)
I won't vouch for the utility of this intuition, but it tells me that you should try the poem backwards, or, failing that, widdershins. Whichever way works or does not, have some good mojo.
no subject
It is still very much appreciated. In return . . .
I won't vouch for the utility of this intuition, but it tells me that you should try the poem backwards, or, failing that, widdershins. Whichever way works or does not, have some good mojo.
Thank you.