Published on July 30th, 2014 | by Sarah Maguire
5Sarah Maguire on WHY I CAN’T WRITE
Before I’ve even done anything
I’m tired
I can’t be bothered
But you’re making 2500
Neurons a minute
This week Sarah
Graeme reminds me
It’s tiring making a little human
A poet friend points out
But I was gonna be different
I’d wanted to be pregnant for so long
For Years!
I was gonna feel magical
Cosmic
ECSTATIC
I was gonna be
The embodiment
of the ART-TEEST Mama
I was gonna show
My radical feminist
Friends who never wanna be parents
That it’s not what they think
“Look at me I’m pregnant full of baby and just doing my art everyday”
In fact it IS an art project!
That’s how Diane di Prima made it sound
She asked “How does a woman be an artist AND mother”
As an ART-TEEST
She wanted to experience
EVERYTHING
Everything that a woman’s body is
Capable of
And you know how it is
You read something
That seems like
A big answer
WHAM!
THE answer
Books have the answer
ALL the answers
Which they mostly do
But also people are different
So I got pregnant
And I felt sick
And tired
And exhausted
And miserable
And the thing I’d waited for
The thing I held in my mind
To be so beautiful
Precious and wondrous
Made me feel like utter crap
Like shit
Nauseous
Made me hate all food
Made me lose my sex drive
Made me lose interest in
Anything I like
Music
Books
Poetry
Writing
Depressed
Am I depressed?
And the worst part-
I wretch every time I put a tooth brush
In my mouth
I’ve tried everything
No toothpaste
Only brushing the outsides
Only brushing the insides
Not brushing the back
But NO
I must puke into the sink
Every time I brush
So now I’ve developed
A phobia
Of my toothbrush
Every night I think
And sometimes even go as far as
Saying out loud
Tomorrow I’m REALLY getting my show on the road
No more laying down doing nothing
No more of THIS
I’m gonna REALLY TRY!
And here I am
At a cafe
Sat in the sun
Perfect writing conditions
And I feel TIRED
Kinda like someones pulled
The plug on me
My blood is pouring out
I roll my eyes at my book
And dream of heading home
For the sofa
Watching shit videos on youtube
In my pyjamas seems like the most fun ever!
But no!! NO!
I start this poem
About why I can’t write
It should be called
Why I don’t wanna write
Why I can’t be assed to write
Why I’m so lazy
Why I suddenly hate poetry
I guess the thing is
di Prima took amphetamine in her coffee
Every morning
Yep I think that would do it
Would change the story
And I for sure
Would get my show on the road
I was fooled
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