moment.01 || free write exercise-part 2

Over the last few days, the previous free-write session shifted focus moving from a rough draft for a possible narrative to a poem set up in tercet stanzas.



At this point, the details and theme remained essentially the same: (son as Hermes, son as inspiration)—but I abandoned the concept of the personal experience of myself running around with knotted laces on my sneakers.

Below is the first draft, still hand-written in my notebook:



A moment of confrontation:
me and the blank paper.
the pages' presence overwhelming.

So I breathe. Fidget with the seat.
Adjust the pen placement of
in the hand and stare at the lamp

expecting miracles—or to simply wait, waiting for
the figure of for inspiration to arrive
as Hermes, god of messages and

proclamations—young, dark-haired,
olive-skinned— the eternal youth
appearing as a reinvention of my son,









:::with unkempt hair, a rough unshaven face, brimming with assertiveness:::

after soccer practice, smelling of
green youth and over confidence—
(I want) this to personify

my work, my creative process, my athletic poems
stacked in slightly disorganized piles on
the (my) desk: I want my boy to represent an appropriate,









:::valid body of work to explain my creative process, my writing, my raison d'etre:::

...








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