This month, our school hosted a Progoff Intensive Journal Workshop. One workshop exercise involved writing a dialog between each participant and someone who has influenced him. I chose Bob Lax, who gave up and moved to Patmos to wait and write.

Instead of writing a dialog, however, I found myself writing a dozen poem-like things. I may be in the same place as I was eight years ago when I wrote a few Lax-inspired pieces.

This week, in a different kind of meeting, I tooled around with my newest Lax-inspired things, making lots of revisions. Some people with artistic training get through meetings in a similar way with doodles, of course, engaging their eye to egg on their ear.

Lax, though, missed all memos, made no meetings, and (maybe as a consequence) made few revisions to his own poems. They came out of him after long waits, and whole as eggs.

Poet Dave Bonta came up with “poem-like things” to describe some of his own work. I haven’t written poems, much less poem-like things, in years. Dave also occasionally compares writing poems to having bowel movements. Perhaps, then, I should call these my Laxatives.

I’ve posted my first four; the rest will come in December.

the sky is signal and white sheets. the sun
…………..sets fire to sea.

……………….>>>>>>>….ice, I step onto
the sun…..>>>….like an astronaut

Lax prompted this and other poem-like things.