“It’s easier to start with the goal of writing one short sentence than an entire poem. What interests me is how a short sentence can have all the qualities of a poem – a quick, perfectly executed brushstroke that surprises and delights, that’s full of mystery and meaning, and set to a rhythm that sings. Allen Ginsberg, inspired by the traditional Japanese haiku – three lines of five, seven, and five syllables – invented the ‘American Sentence,’ one sentence of seventeen syllables.”
-Kim Addonizio, “Ordinary Genius”
My room is plastered wall to wall with visions I will never finish.
I used to love a foot of snow; now it’s agony to take care of.
Silence is impossible in a place that allows any children.
I sit in class and wonder why I’d ever inflict this on my kids.
Purple is the color filling my sister like a cancerous organ.
A small scrap of paper taped to the wall transports me to Wonderland.
When I look into reflective glass, do I perceive what others see?
Fuchsia socks, auburn room, all hues of the color keeping me alive.
Which American Sentence is your favorite? Maybe I’ll take it and turn it into a poem by the end of my experiment.