I am experimenting here with a very simple idea–include overt stage directions in my poetry. In the poem below I ask you to *inhale* first, read the poem, then *exhale*. I am trying to capture the physical constraints I feel when I am living in my mildly dark depression. For me, being depressed feels like I forget to breathe. Of course, breathing is how I oftentimes wend my way out of the dark maze, hand on the sides, always turning left.
So follow the stage directions: inhale, read the poem silently, and then exhale. You are one small, embodied breath toward giving voice to your own astonishments.
blackraspberry darkchocolate ice cream melting & I don’t care.
Anthems to be sung?
fresh book smell?
rocks to be turned over?
closure to be had?
rights to be uprighted, wrongs to be unwronged, wild ginger & blood root & ginseng & goldenseal & trillium & phlox to be seen & touchd?
I don’t care.
Can’t even b botherd 2 b irritatd,outragd or even
2 finish this..thing.
what I c when I b this..thing.