Write Faster Than You Can Think, freewrite

Write faster than you can think. just push the pen across the page like a cloud with oars sailing across the sea of hope. The mishearing, the misrepresentation, often more interesting than the original. Poets' ears think different. We are all damseled about because that is the nature of things, to uncover an old poem, relics from the past, buried treasure in the attic of the subconscious. Freud would have a field day fixing the poets, and then what? Then what would we do? All this verbiage or is it garbage? I have little by way of mind left after 5 PM. They say that in Thailand, children are dying of the bird flu, sudden angels who just last week were chasing chickens across the yard. Imagine their excited squabbling, and the indignation of foul juxtaposed against the screams of children playing tag and touch the tail. And now I envision those children on thunderclouds rolling across the sky in hot pursuit of birds of the air—in those farther fields.

1/27/04  From my Writers' Group