Picking Up the Signals

I started my day with some yummy oatmeal and reheated coffee. I had a flash of inspiration while washing my cereal bowl, and came upstairs to write a poem.

I’m lucky because I’m in a groove these days. I have my Poet’s antennae poised and scanning the airwaves, like a giant Double Doppler Dish picking up every storm front moving through. It’s not a form of genius, merely a form of permission to consider EVERYTHING as subject.

Last week, I went to the Dorcas store in Cary to buy a $3 sweater — Poem. I read about Gen. Erwin Rommel giving away accordions to German troops right before D-Day to boost morale — Poem. Jumper cables — Poem. Finishing Schools — Poem. The demolition of the Tappan Zee Bridge over the Hudson River — Poem.

And here’s where it gets even better. I plagiarize from myself. I wrote a poem about my ischemic stroke and had it published in a national stroke patient magazine. Then I turned the poem into a 4,000-word essay and put it in “The Low Wire,” my first essay collection. Then I teased the essay into a 75-page mini-memoir called “The Guests” that’s now up on Amazon. I will probably come back in a few years and update it, and probably double the length of it.

If you tell me you are stuck and have nothing to write about, I will not be dismissive. I will be very supportive and suggest you open your aperture a bit and consider new possibilities that are most likely right in front of you begging for your attention.

Whatever happened at dinner last night. I’m betting it’s worth looking at again. That’s what rewired creatives do. We recycle the regular stuff and transform it.