I didn’t manage to get anything finished even by the stage of a first draft this week. There are a few starts and stanzas but nothing completed. Might have something before the weekends out although that is unlikely as it is Belfast Improv Festival this weekend and that’s Friday through to Sunday in Laverys and Monday night in the Black Box.
I only show about 0.001% of what I write. There’s an awful lot of doggerel inked on to a multitude of notebooks and napkins. Much of it dreadful, some of it would absolutely get me cancelled. I write on nonetheless. It’s a good practise, I think, to stream-of-consciousness dump onto a page. There are occasional diamonds in the dirt that can be used. Most of it is catharsis. Like a warm-up before an Improv Show to remove self-consciousness about looking silly. Looking silly is part of the point. Besides, I’m really very good at it.
I did come up with a few lines which may or may not make it into a poem at a later date.
Self-fulfilling pity party.
My face is so much more honest than I
It’s not worth my while to tell you a lie.
I care that people know that I don’t care.
Anyway, hopefully I’ll get something finished soon.
