Today’s new word:
ipseity n. selfhood; individual identity.
Write a poem that starts from a regional phrase, particularly one to describe a weather phenomenon.
Write a lone poem. Perhaps the poem is about a solitary wanderer or person who just prefers to go it alone.
Whatever It Is
It’s not the heat it’s the humidity
the frustrating accumulation of droplets of sweat before even grabbing a towel after a cold water shower, losing ipseity in the hopelessness of the dark triangles under armpits along backs under breasts where bellies can’t hide against fabric, perspiration can’t and won’t relinquish the damp, moist, swampy, Petri dish of microbial life
Yeah you right
It’s not the heat it’s the stupidity
the brain beating endless summer of torrential sunbeams pounding and pounding at damp flesh, glassy-eyed, immobile, barely functioning bodies swimming from one air conditioner to the next like sharks focused on survival, the shot-gun blast filling the electric sky promises short-term relief, heavy drops blending all the sweat marks into one is but lagniappe
Laissez les bon temps arriver bientôt!
Today’s poetry book for inspiration is Fast: Poems by Jorie Graham