Sally at My Writing Stories that Only I Can Tell posted a found poem, taking it from an earlier Slice she'd written. Since I already stole an idea from her daughter, I thought I'd continue the tradition and steal this one from her!
I went back to day 19 for my slice, which was about the experience of having written for that many days in a row.
I copied it into a Google Doc, and highlighted words and phrases that jumped out to me, without paying much attention to how they'd work together. Then I went back and highlighted everything else in black. I did a little editing here, adding some words in yellow, blacking out some previously highlighted words that didn't work that well with the rest. My rule for myself was that I couldn't do anything I couldn't have done on paper--that is, I could black over yellow, but not yellow over black.
Or, if it's easier to read:
Number nineteen, really?
I've written every day.
In my excitement, neck and back pain
Hunched over my computer.
Pain has abated!
Handscrawled journals in blank books
Handle my pain and passion
I've taken a few risks
(too sleepy to innovate)
dove into the deep end,
Toss off six words.
A mix of lit fans and teachers of reading and writing.
Experience trumps the writing.
We're all Word People, of course.
People are deliberate about their writing.
The focus is on writing itself.
"How are they telling this tale?
What is moving me?
How are they doing that?"
Nineteen days in a row.