Outsider Poet

Have not been revising or submitting this month.  Just scratching out 30 poems in 30 days.  Will try to resist the temptation of posting any of them here.  Nothing works without multiple revisions.  It’s all so awkward.

In explanation of the post title, I think I’m an outsider poet.  No B.F.A. or M.F.A. or D.F.A.  No credit classes at all in creative writing in higher ed.  When young, I got my education at the public library.  Read poems with capital letters, centered on the page, about common, everyday things.  Life.  Love.  Work.  Anger.  Nothing hard to understand.  Nothing that required parsing out or interpretation. Then that merged into feminist poetry, which drew from confessional poetry, which introduced me to imagistic and modernist poetry.  But I’m just a street poet who is no longer in the street. 

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