Convergence poetry

I went to a mini-informal-writing conference last weekend.

Here’s the first of several posts of what I wrote. More (and other people’s) can be found on the PoetryProject.org web site.

April 12, 2003

12:33 a.m.
Rules – don’t think and stuff.
5 minutes. A story from my travels here.

I drove. For a while. Then we stopped at Taco Bell, where I haven’t been in a long time. I remember going there with Tara before school. I used to give her and her little sister a ride? It’s fuzzy stuff, much like the ride here. Why am I sitting here in a room of 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 people that I don’t quite know yet? I should be asleep now. I don’t want to get sick.

I’m breaking the rules: I’m thinking and stopping and not being especially wild. What was the other one? Be specific.
Who his this Natalie Goldberg and why are we following her rules?

This isn’t the story of how I got here. Not really. We got in the car and drove.