I have these moments when I write a poem, and I am proud because the poem is what I want it to be. Sometimes I write, and things go in an unexpected direction – that’s ok too – but I am most proud when I finish with the started intent.
Yesterday after publishing Overbite, Matt walks into my bedroom. “Read this. It’s funny.” I smile, hand him my phone and wait for the laughter. And wait. And …
“I don’t get it.”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s a doggy bag?”
Are you fuckin’ kidding me! If looks could educate! “It’s a bag you put leftover food in.”
“So why doesn’t the food go bad?”
“Because my bag is special.” And technically, the bag doesn’t exist because I am not talking about literal food! Jesus! From the look on his face, I can tell he doesn’t get it.
“Pass!” I say with hand outstretched and fingers calling to get m my phone; I add, “Get outta my room!”
I enjoy using literal language to represent idioms or metaphoric things. And who’s never heard of a doggy bag? Shhhhhhit! I can’t say, “take away container!”
And why do I still give the boys my poems to read? I want them to develop an appreciation for books and written words. All they have an appetite for right now are TikTok-length videos. I’m exaggerating, but only by a little bit.
by accident, I found another way to read through people’s posts on WordPress, which I prefer. I go to the sites I follow, I can see when they last posted, I click, read, and like – if I like! Also, I can only pay attention to x number of sites at a time – so the ones I don’t read much – or where content doesn’t speak to me, I will unfollow because it doesn’t make sense – why am I following you if I don’t read your content!