Last night I tried climbing into another poet's poems with the idea of taking them for a text drive. How do they Feel?
I kicked the tires to see if any lines fell off. I put myself in the place of the people or things [in the poems]. I became a number of different nouns. How did being a Birch tree make me feel in these circumstances? I need to do this exercise more often.*
*Journal post the morning of 1-30-14
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