Yesterday a magical thing happened: I learned that my old friends K. Lorraine Graham and Mark Wallace were reading poetry at the Fusebox series in Chattanooga, about 2 hours northeast of my home in Birmingham.
I went into my son’s bedroom and said to my husband, “We need to talk.” I said, “WE HAVE TO TO GO CHATTANOOGA TONIGHT Can we go can we go can we go” and we did. And he even drove, because my ankle is sprained and it hurts to drive. He gets gold stars, as do my parents for babysitting my son at the last minute.
After Lorraine’s reading, I said: “I’m going to steal some of these lines for a poem. Forced collaboration.” She said go for it.
This quick NaPoWriMo poem is probably a one-off because I don’t think it really fits with mnemotechnics or EKFUCKINGPHRASIS. I wanted it to be more about jazz and Lorraine’s pet bird, but it didn’t turn out that way.