But to make up for it, this week I wrote TWO small poems. And they're both new. They're acrostics, a form I never played with before.
The first one spells out "Ravenage", an archaic form for, well, pillage, basically. Here are the first nearly four lines:
Raven: bird of paradox, the transformer, transplanting
Antagonist of his own fictions, unpredictable as seasons
Venal, voracious, vandalous creator, mischievous glutton of
Everything lustrous, everything slick with life's fat.
This one spells out "The Empty City", which is the working title of the novel I plan to start revising in August:
The awakening. Face in rubble and rough weeds. Alone.
Her lover gone as though he had never been. Her anger as
Empty walls crumble around her like a whitewashed face.
As always sponsors and cheerleaders get to see the full poems. So lucky they are!