Brunch of Poets

One of the most enjoyable, creative activities in my life is getting together with a bunch of poets, eating, reading, laughing, and sharing and commenting on each other's work. Last month, the UpSet Poetry Group (Robert Booras, Nick Powers, Jenny Husk, Rachel Rear, Sean O'Hanlon) congregated in my house. After a feast of minty fruit salad, homemade arepas and black beans, we sat on the living room rug and had a writing jam session. Six fabulous poets with copies of their poems and pencils in hand. One fabulous non-poet parent (thank you Nik Rocklin) herding and containing four small children in my daughter's room down the hall.

Here is what I wrote for and workshopped at our gathering:

Neglectful Gardener (First Draft)

Though the seeds I’ve sown in paper squares
Never flourished into fruit-bearing plants
And the potted begonia from the
Teacher-appreciation lunch is now
A seer, brown-edged casualty of my
Neglect, I have managed to boil many
Boxes of Annie’s macaroni shells
Turning white dust into a creamy sauce,
A meal my daughter devours with hands.
And the small boy now asleep in the crib
Who keeps my breasts on active duty
Can now scoot on tummy and elbows
From corner to corner of the rug
Grabbing at wires and shiny beer bottles.


Neglectful Gardener (Final Draft)

Though the seeds I’ve sown in paper squares
Never flourished into fruit-bearing plants
And the potted begonia from the
Teacher-appreciation lunch is now
A seer, brown-edged casualty of my
Neglect, I have managed to boil many
Boxes of Annie’s macaroni shells
Turning white dust into a creamy sauce,
A meal my daughter devours with hands.
Even though the last sprig of cilantro
In the wooden herb box succumbed to weeds,
My son can worm around on his belly
Climb onto my lap and pull up my shirt
To harvest the fruit that keeps him growing.