Phantasmic Armistice
NaPoWriMo 10/30
I’ve never ticked off the box of adding that app. I’ve occasionally ticked off the man who filter drips me clips through his phone. I’ve been ticked there’s a ghost in my serotonin receptors. The clocks have ticked the reflection of the sun’s arc in my Toshiba and Iphone alike. What a trick the Romans played calling our muscles little mice—mine suckle on the trickle of sugar water notifications, give the specter more time to tickle the sand into the neural soup of my amygdala. The entity floats over sage traps, drips more guinea pig liquid to erode me until I rip myself from the screen, plant my eyes on the dogwoods, the house finches, the caterpillars traipsing my door. The entity will return. Cattails will tilt to meet its sweet tea tide.
Today’s poem came about from two prompts: one I’ve been mulling over for a hot minute, and one that helped me address the first one. The first prompt I’ve been chewing on comes from Safia Elhillo’s generative workshop post “Medical History,” which you can check out below:
The second prompt that helped me finally stitch this poem into something more than a grab bag of images in my journal was the phrase “there’s a ghost in my _____,” from Alex Dawson. You can view her prompts below:
Thank you to both of you for the prompts for today’s poem!
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It feels like you create whole environments for your words to live in. Also, can imagine a narration would sound fantastic!