Day 8 of NaPoWriMo dawned and my usual writing routine was disrupted. That was because it was the day to venture out and do grocery and other necessary shopping in the village. Under lockdown that requires a lot of time and effort sanitising, laundering, washing outdoor footwear, the whole palaver. I normally write my poem a day while sipping my tea in bed. Today, for the first time in a long time, I drafted my poem while not wearing pyjamas.
After showering, feeding myself a breakfast well past lunchtime, and have a second cup of tea, I tackled the prompt. We are asked to take a famous poet’s line of poetry from randomly generated tweet bot. I tried the first poet tweet bot mentioned, the https://twitter.com/sylviaplathbot. Partly this was out of sentiment. Back in the 1960s, my sister was one of the first Masters candidates to write her thesis on Sylvia Plath’s poetry. So from the time I was around twelve the Plath was a presence in our household. The first line of each stanza was the quote that the tweet bot provided me when I finally settled down to the task of writing some poetry today.
Though my poem has come out a bit flippant today. Extra points to the reader who can spot the extra poetry line quoted in the poem.
The Unprepared Housewife I am not ready for anything to happen. For why should I live a life like a loaded gun? That just makes you all trigger happy, and creates a horrible mess. Explosions are never a lot of fun. I am not ready for anything to happen. That probably makes me a lousy housewife. I prefer to write a poem, much better than therapy for me. Also, it’s nice to have some guilt to confess, to not live as tidy as a nun. I am not ready for anything to happen. I eat meat without a steak knife, foreswearing all weapons. Which is safer when your hot and snappy. We don’t curse, but prefer to bless. Which may account for why not much happens. Copyright © Bee Smith, 2020. All rights reserved.