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Poemunizing: The Theory of Wastebaskets

April 18, 2020 By Julie Lomoe 1 Comment

On Friday the 13th of March, I began self-quarantining at home with my husband, my dog and my cat. Over a month has passed, and we’ve fared remarkably well. I’m amazed at my emotional equanimity, especially since I’m diagnosed bipolar. In part it’s because I’ve rid my life of so many meaningless obligations that didn’t really bring me joy. Zoom has proven its worth many times over. For one thing, I can hear people much better than I often do in person. I never got around to ordering hearing aids before the virus attacked, and now I don’t need them. And when I’m bored or annoyed with a Zoom event, I can click unobtrusively on the little red “leave meeting” message at the lower right of my screen and disappear with no one the wiser. I can indulge my temperamental bladder or pour another cup of coffee or glass of Sauvignon Blanc whenever I’m so inclined.

Writing has been a lifeline too. I’ve completed four solid weeks of Mar Hahne’s Poemunize Zoom workshop and learned a great deal about poetic forms and new approaches to writing poetry. Each day we study a particular form or poem, then use it as a launching pad for our own writing. For example, this poem is modeled after David Biespiel’s “The Theory of Hats,” with its first line “It is hard even to admit this theory of hats.”

The Theory of Wastebaskets 

It is hard even to admit this theory of wastebaskets,

That they stand empty, waiting to receive

The cast-off paper evidence of daily life, then fill

To overflowing. Tissues weighted down

With chartreuse snot blown

From the overstuffed head of the virus victim

Waiting to learn if this virus is a cold or if perhaps

A dry cough will develop and her temperature

Will rise, signaling the end of days, at least for her.

 

The wastebaskets hold shredded paper too. Ripped

Pages of abandoned poems, first drafts

Of novels never finished, fiction that ran out

Of juice and steam. Fantasies of fame unrealized

Now that she’s weighted down with age and excess

Pounds accumulated through excess hours

Huddled at her desk, consuming too much coffee

And Ghirardelli chocolate squares sequestered

In drawers beneath her laptop.

 

The wastebaskets are overflowing. Snotty tissues

And scraps of paper cascade onto the filthy carpet

Where her cat and dog shuffle them into ever deepening

Chaos. She makes a resolution: today’s the day

She’ll empty the wastebaskets, rid this room

Of clutter, clear her office and her mind, make way

for inspiration. She’s made this resolution

Many times before but today the sun

Is struggling to emerge from hazy gray clouds and melt

The final traces of the last spring snowfall. Today

She vows that she’ll survive Corona virus.

In this age of isolation, she vows to make a start.

I wrote this poem on March 25, and I’m still wrestling with the overabundance of paper cluttering my office, but exploring my feelings about it made me feel at least a little better about it.

The Poemunize class ended on Easter Sunday, but some of the participants have started a private Facebook group where we can post and critique each other’s work, so the journey continues. In my next post here, I’ll share my Domestic Rants poem, which continues my raging-against-housework theme. Please subscribe by clicking in the menu column to the right, so you won’t miss anything.

I hope you’re staying safe and healthy at home.

Please leave me a comment and let me know how you’re doing.

Filed Under: Art of Writing, Community of Authors, Creativity, Julie's Poetry Tagged With: clutter, conquering clutter, Corona virus, Julie Lomoe, Marj Hahne, poetry, spring

Comments

  1. Henry Schott says

    June 27, 2020 at 10:53 pm

    Probably the first blog I have intentionally visited. As I previously mentioned, I enjoyed your Trump warning. We live in a strange democracy where the minority (of voters) occasionally get to Trump the majority! If Republicans were conservative, they would not have elected this president. They would not have regularly overspent the budget while at the same time cutting taxes. But we know all that…..

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Julie Lomoe brings a wealth of mental health and home health care experience to her mystery novels, Mood Swing: The Bipolar Murders and Eldercide.

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