I still remember the first time someone called me it.
It was in the early aughts, after an open mic in a sleepy little border town in Utah. I was one of several performers that night, having read a recent piece of my writing. Then I heard someone say, “Oh, that’s Woz. She’s a poet.”
Wait. What? Rewind. Double take. What did they just call me?
The confusion on my face could have been interpreted the same way had someone used any variety of colorful word choices to describe me. (I’m completely useless in a game of poker.) I just hadn’t thought of myself that way before. I was just…a writer.
Until about a year ago.
I joined a writing group led by
(an established writer and poet, in her own right) that allowed me to do what I love most: play with words. I’d often play with those words on a typewriter (one of my other true loves). And the result of that word play?Poems.
Wait. What? Rewind. Double take.
How did this even happen? I’m not really sure. And I don’t even think it matters. The point is, I’m clearly writing poems, so I guess that makes me…a poet.
All that to say, in honor of National Poetry Month coming to an end in just a few days, I thought I’d share some recent ones with you.
All on a typewriter. All quite brief. I think one may say this is my “style” but I’m just playing with words.
If one of these speaks to you, sweet. If you share one with someone because you think it may speak to them, too, double sweet (and minty!).
RENT TO OWN
THAT TRACKS
STEALING CREDIT
SUFFOCATE
absolutely priceless ... keep playing with words!!!
Suffocate.
Love it!! ❤️ 🔥🌊