a poem wants to be built out of things
a writing prompt inspired by poet Elinor Mattern
Hi there! I’m trying out some new formats on Write More, and this is a little love, where I’ll highlight a brief piece of writing I love, then give a suggestion for how that might launch you into your own writing.
Do you have a little love you’d love to share? Feel free to email me with a suggestion!
Today’s Little Love came to me from my three-dimensional life. A few weekends ago I was sitting in Gardiner’s Basin in Atlantic City for a special edition of the World Above reading series sponsored by 48 Blocks AC, the flagship program of the Atlantic City Arts Foundation. You might not guess it, but south Jersey is absolutely full of poets, and it was a reading that showed off the range of exciting work folks of doing here—everything from Joel Dias-Porter, who’d come right from a reading in New York with Terrance Hayes, to a woman sharing a poem in public for the very first time. There was even an adorable toddler who yelled “yay!” every time a new person walked to the mic.
I’m going to share a poem I heard that day, “The Thing Is,” by Elinor Mattern, a poet I’ve been lucky to know for several years now through Murphy Writing and the extended writing community of south Jersey. It reads to me like an ars poetica, and, like all good ars poeticas1, it enacts the thing it’s about—it argues for thing-y-ness in poems, and it is itself stuffed with things, rocks and protons and splintered glass. It was originally published in The Literary Review.
The Thing Is Elinor Mattern For Renee Ashley The thing you want to write a poem about is probably not what the poem is about. And the poem you want to write about that thing is probably not what a poem is. The thing is, the idea is not the poem. And an idea does not become a poem. Does not lend itself to a poem. Does not lend itself to poem-making. Does not a poem make. That thing might be a note to God, or self, a letter, an essay. But a poem is its own thing. And it wants to be pretty thing-y. Or usually. And the thing about writing a poem is that a poem isn't really about. And the thing about about-ness is that that's what poems aren't. And another thing is the way a poem comes about. Because a poem wants to be built out of things. Real things. Thing-y things. Or word-things. But not idea-things. Not about-things. But rock-things and proton-things. Not the thing on your mind. Like this poem. But the thing you can hold in your hand. Look at. Spleen-things and broken-glass-things. Trip over. Taste. Blue-things and ice.
a prompt for you: what things does your writing want to be made out of?
Collect some things—real, tangible, three-dimensional things. They don’t need to be beautiful or interesting or lend themselves easily to art. It’s probably better if they aren’t. Right now, on my desk, I have a little dish with some tiny seashells in it, but also a broken coaster, some old gift cards to the bowling alley/arcade my kids love, a unicorn paperclip, and a little painted rock my younger kid gave me with an image of a bee and a note to “bee supportive” that honestly reads maybe like he’s negging me?
The point is: we’re surrounded by things, and it’s so easy, in our writing, to be focused on our ideas and our emotions and forget all the glorious, broken, crummy stuff around us. So grab a bunch of things. Write a bit about them, or maybe sketch them. Where does that take you?
Alternately: go back to a draft of something you’re working on and think about its thing-y-ness. Does it want to be made of more things?
Your writing wants to be built out of things—real things, rock-things and proton-things, as Elinor’s poem reminds us. Go find some.
even more to love, from the Write More archive
a guest post by YA writer , with a focus on creating dramatic conflict
on how seeking joy pulls us back into the sensory world
Write More, Be Less Careful is a newsletter about why writing is hard & how to do it anyway. You can find my books here and read other recent writing here. If you’d like occasional dog photos, glimpses of my walks around town, and writing process snapshots, find me on instagram.
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my plural is certainly wrong here—should this be poeticae? artes poeticae, maybe? my Latin is very blurry now, but maybe a reader can remind me!
Beautiful. I love writing filled with things. It gives me such entry into someone else's mind.
This was inspiring :)