Improv. 4 (week 1)

I got fascinated by Janet Lewis's "Remembered Morning"  and the way that its innocence seemed to shine through in such a small poem. The use of the Pastorial in this piece also captured me in a way that I wanted to try to emulate in my own piece by capturing the writer outside of a city element. I also tried to introduce form to it by going for iambic pentameter for more practice while trying to avoid the singy-songyness of rhyme.

        



 Wilted leaves and cherry groves tipped 
asunder by winter’s axe. Write 
about the world. About dirt filled cracks,
pregnancies, forgotten nights of passion 
between Mother Nature and Father Time.
How the stench of Atlanta is anything but people. 
Its fingerprints, a small set of fingertips cowering
at the sight of a new season. 
Write about the cigs. The small curly S’s glazing
over kegs of nighttime liquor and jazz. 
Write about dying trees, angry leafs, and roots. 
Wet water, wetter rain. Sketch dancers who bound 
top of toes like mountains and gracefully poised 
curtsies. Artists who crack cans wide open, frame 
newspaper clippings about poverty. 
The alcoholic, his typewriter abuse, the way he smashes
each key and shreds. The chain smoker reading 
a pamphlet about GOD. Write about these things, 
they might give new life.