For today’s prompt, write a work poem. For some folks, writing is work (great, huh?). For others, work is teaching, engineering, or delivering pizzas. Still others, dream of having work to help them pay the bills or go to all ages shows. Some don’t want work, don’t need work, and are glad to be free of the rat race. There are people who work out, work on problems, and well, I’ll let you work out how to handle your poem today.
I'm a day behind in the challenge,
ironically because yesterday I had to work. I picked up a job as a
delivery driver for the local paper. They just switched to a new
carrier service, and I acted as the clean up crew – picking up any
deliveries that got missed.
It resulted in me driving a hundred
miles around San Marcos and the Texas Hill Country in peak bluebonnet
season. I listened to the BBC Audio production of Midsummer
Night's Dream the whole time, and I rode with the windows down. I
got some looks from the locals, but they all were very glad to
receive their papers.
I get to do it again today. This time,
I'll be listening to The Snow Child, by Eowyn Ivey. It means I
won't get to write again until this evening. It also means that I
have successfully funded two more weeks of the writing life, thanks
to my parents, who are graciously giving us a home while I write and
my daughter attends her online classes.
So I don't have a poem yet for today. I've got fragments of two poems. Hopefully they will become whole and separate soon.
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