bricolage, bunker, azure
When I first had the idea to write poems as thank-yous for larger donations, and to ask my supporters to send me three words to write around, I didn’t think about how those words would affect my work, given that I am deeply accustomed to choosing my own words when I write. It was a challenge. I don’t think I would ever have used bricolage in a poem written entirely under my own steam.
In fact I was anxious about bricolage. I avoided this poem. It was the last ‘reward’ poem I penned. And what I found was this: those words were perfect. And they got me writing about a metro station in Lisbon called Parque that was so exquisite that when I got out of the train all I could do was stand and gawk.
Lynda got her poem in the mail this week. And luckily, she loved it too. So much so that she hand wrote it over a picture of the station, pinned it to her wall, and then sent of photo of it to me. I am overwhelmed with the gift.