"Success isn't a result of spontaneous combustion. You must set yourself on fire." Arnold H. Glasow
First find the right tinder,
a handful of dry grass,
the idea of the poem, piecemeal,
shaggy, rough, flaking in the hand.
A bit of flint next, the hard idea,
needing something striking at the core.
Find a stick, not for poking about with,
that will come later in the revision,
but to cradle the nascent flame.
Then blow. Oh--wait,
your hot air is not regulated enough.
You might put the small spark out.
Thrust the ember into the pith,
into the heart of the poem.
Feel the heat of it, browning the edges,
curling, curing, curating your lines.
Now you are ready, the fire is set.
Breath deep. Blow yourself apart.
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