The editor looks out from blue eyes streaked with glints of granite, framed by skin wrinkled by years of life and laughter and squinting at screens. She turns those eyes on others’ words, critical of all she sees: a misspelled word, an awkward turn of phrase, a misplaced or missing comma. She revels in continuity errors, reams of deleted words, added nuances, altered points of view. She knows just how to fix a confused, tired, sometimes battered and bruised manuscript come knocking at her door, a supplicant looking for absolution, or maybe a solution.
The writer looks out from eyes the blue of misty oceans, eyes that dream, shining with the light of stars, knowing the next adventure is always there, waiting around the next bend. She opens to the universe, channels its undifferentiated matter, recycled in infinity, the debris of stars becoming the blood and bones of the living, breathing world. The blackness of space merges with the blue of skies with the green of trees and grass with the brown of earth. She molds this matter into a wealth of words, then gives the editor a peek. Your turn now.
The reader looks out from eyes that sparkle with the blue of a sunny sky, open to whatever that sky might reveal, always looking for her next great read. “Hush,” she says to the editor. “I want to lose myself in the wonder of a good story. I want to dream and fly and laugh and cry. I want to immerse myself in a life not my own in a world on which my feet will never stand. I want to read without looking for missteps, enjoying the ride. Hush, now, and go to sleep.”
The editor laughs.
Okay, so I know on Wednesday I said this story wasn’t a poem. And it isn’t. But it has a poetic cadence, I think. So this is probably more poetic prose and, I may have to concede that Wednesdays “story” really was a poem.
In any event, the prompt from Jason McBride of Weirdo Poetry (as best I remember it at this late date) was to look at yourself (Was it in the mirror, Jason?) every day for a week and write about a different aspect of yourself. I admit, I only wrote the one day, but I wrote about three interrelated aspects of myself.
Many thanks to Jason for this prompt. You can read his thoughts on many interesting topics in his newsletter.
I’m glad I read this AFTER the Dostoevsky question. This answers the other question much more fully. YES! Prose poem.
Thanks for another mention! I loved this poetic prose self-portrait. The last line is the perfect ending!