First, fall head-first into a hole that is
so perfectly fitted to your heart that
you will never again be free of it. Always
have your tools with you. Never let a moment go.
Roll in the scent like a dog and remember.
Take that rare color, the gem of a sound,
the shoes that you noticed side by side in
the grass and smear them on paper
as fast as you can. Don’t think. See without eyes.
Look at the sketchy map you’ve drawn,
trace your finger down the lines, decide where
you plan to take us. Nod once. Go slowly.
Hold that place in your mind like a distant castle.
Choose your own best reader, the one who gets it,
the one who knows your truth. Speak into their chest
with a megaphone, a feather, a rich dark whisper,
depending on your style and prevailing mood.
Your language is image, comparison, memory,
the clear ting of the finest china bell. The senses
are the way you get another heart to hear you, so
say what your skin and your ears and your eyes know.
Go back to the top and start again and again, smoothing
and dressing your thoughts in words made of all of the
men you are. Don’t use lazy tricks. Pluck out extra words.
Turn all clichés on their heads. Don’t be afraid to cut.