Take a Stab

Well it’s come down to this

…a blog screaming into the void as the void looks back unamused.

I am just kidding, it only feels like that in my mind at times. I think we all get that feeling from time to time. Is what I am doing worth it? Does anyone even care?

I read a chapter in Dr. Jordan Petersons book about not getting letting yourself get resentful, deceitful and arrogant. One of the big pressure points he presses on is that feeling or thought of does this really matter? That cynicism can kill all momentum and confidence.

So in order to combat that cynicism I will continue to scream into the void. Hear me and…my poems?

POEM PROJECT

Yes poems. They sound so soft and light don’t they? Or is that just me? I have been reading a book by Richard Hugo (founder of the creative writing program at the University of Montana) called The Triggering Town. It’s a short how-to for wanna be poets. It’s really well written and the insights into how others read into poems and how some love the sound of them more than the content and how the contents should cater to the sounds is amazing to me because that is not how I read poems. I read them like prose. There should be three acts, beginning middle and end. Poems don’t have that and it use to bug the fuck out of me but now I am appreciating the jumps, turns and punches to the face a lot more now.

Poems don’t need to be complete or give all the info. In fact that is the fun thing about them I am finding out. Filling in the gaps with your imagination sounds juvenile but is actually the best part. The poet assumes a lot of things and the biggest thing is that you, the reader, will figure it the fuck out. As a someone who likes to write, it’s nice to let the reader do some of the work for once.

So here I am, starting a poem project and what fabulous and amazing thing should I concentrate writing about?

Let’s start with something knew all too well for a few years of my young life.

Butte Bars

I think I can write a few on the bars in Butte and the experiences I had in them (imaginary or not). I will have some about Butte in general but I’ll try to give a nice salute to the saloons that served me cold beers and poorly made cocktails. Cheer to you Butte America.

So I will kick off the project with this gem that I at 2AM after work last night. Enjoy.

THE IT CLUB

drafts are on the arm

bartender died last night

Took the backways home

Interstate was a sheet

found her laying in the deadpool

the one by the slaughterhouse

christ says a drunk

another crosses himself

She had no last name

Orphans never do

it was a slow night

cops found her tips in a jar

some evidence is never recorded

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Nathan Truzzolino is the author of Middle of The End: A Novel available on Amazon.com now.