Surprise, surprise.

Astonishing how quickly a resolution can fall through.

There are a couple reasons I haven't written for a couple days--
1. I have been out and about almost constantly, and most of my down-time has been absorbed by showering, eating, napping, etc.
2. The things I want to write about are just too big right now.

It's a tricky thing-- sometimes amazing poetry is just dropped into your lap. But I find with my own process, as soon as I think I'll have to write a poem about that, I've in many ways doomed the idea. Because then I spend days and days mulling over this poem, and I develop a preconceived notion of what the poem should be, and have the expectation that it will be amazing and powerful and altogether perfect at first draft, so when I actually sit down to write the thing, I can't even start. Nothing seems to measure up to the original idea.

But, perspective check-- who will actually be reading this blog? Basically, friends, family, and the occasional stranger. Strangers won't give a shit about me or what I write, unless they stumble upon something good. Friends and family will support me regardless. I guess the trouble is getting over my own feelings of perfectionism, and realizing that it's better to write ten poems and have nine of them turn out badly than to spend the whole summer waiting for inspiration.

So, here goes nothing.

Yesterday, I found out that a girl I knew in high school attempted suicide in March. She hung herself from the 212/41 overpass. Someone driving by saw her and started trying to cut her down. He waved down the next person to drive by for help. That person was her mother.

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your mother cut you down
from your tether to the overpass at highway 41

the demons have been screaming at you, haven't they?
the rank and quiet mist of red, swollen wrists, fingers lightly push
the bruises that circle your neck,
broken body, terrarium night, tongue too big with blood shooting through it
did you know that she would come that way,
did you know that she would come?

the sterile words enfold you,
"Woman found hanging from overpass hospitalized"
some of your friends sent cards.
it will not be enough.

your mother cut you down
from your tether to the overpass at highway 41
but we both know that you are still floating there,
rope invisible, drifting in the air
like fog or maybe an angel