I was approached to share my poetry, to be published, but that's not my current specialty.  One week to decide.  I've been putting things together in my head.  Drives in the country, the weather chilling, Alex Turner trying to escape his past loves.  It's inspiring as hell, but not poetry.  Not prose poetry.  Not sonnets or haiku or limericks.  I've been building back stories, towns, neighborhoods, internet friendships.

When I do think of my writing, I don't think it has any tie to this state. Nothing that says - that's a southern writer, that's a Georgia writer, that's all 285 and OTP, Chick'Fil'A and Zaxby's, Coca-Cola and CNN, Peachtree and Oglethorpe.

So there's that.  There's also the fact that all of the finished poetry I have is from college or about my ex or is in a primarily prose paragraph form.

Except, if you think of how much I've taken to this country life, you would think I would be free versing Georgia farms, barns, and American youth.

Labels: are you laughing yet?, poetry, writing