Demons and Divides

Lynda Barry made a book called One! Hundred! Demons!, and it remains one of the favorite books I own. I think of it when I write morning pages and find some kind of bullying nonsense comes out on the page. Demon, I think. One of many. Today’s draft is inspired by demons and the difficult ease of putting them to rest.

This is another draft that might become two separate poems in the revision. It always delights me the way some ideas travel together, holding hands, and as they get more air and attention they are able to stand alone.

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedThere is this gulf between myself and Yes.Picture a cartoon chasm--sheer rock drops on either side,waters full of snapping alligators, hints of other travelers stuck on the rocks(Is that a shoe, tongue flapping in the swirling breeze?)and a rope bridge guaranteed to twist or break. So I think. Even so, I'd try it in a heartbeat.Except for the demon crouched at the edge.It has eaten every unkind thing I've ever heard,belches them forth while I stand, undecided. I write down every word it says,pin it to the ground with language,give myself just enough time to try the shaky bridge.I may die on the attempt but then -- I might live.