I write
this with the vague and fleeting notion that there are still people who
irregularly check this blog and hope to someday find regular updates.
I’ve been
writing elsewhere recently: most critically as Live Theatre’s guest blogger,
but sporadically – often drunkenly – on CAPTCHA, my attempt at trying to fuse
the minds of Tao Lin, Steve Roggenbuck and Julia Darling. No, I don’t know what
I mean either.
Regardless,
CAPTCHA (and the myriad related internet poetry/macro Tumblrs it tries to
emulate) has provided some kind of creative catharsis – or, at the very least,
outlet – while I try and negotiate my way through my mid-twenties in this
clusterfuck nation of ours.
I have “high
and lofty”* hopes of beginning to form the CAPTCHA poems into some kind of coherent
narrative over the next “however long”*. I say that; I’ve probably only written
3 worth theirs or anyone else’s salt. So, in short, I’m just beginning to feel again that I might want to actually write
some poems. But I’ve totally given up on form and learning about it or learning
about why I should learn about it, so expect some prose-poetry about quarter
life crises soon. And by ‘soon’ I mean whenever I actually get round to doing
it. Priorities, people.
*cryptic Tao
Lin references fully intended.
