Where do poems go if you don't write them?
I was contemplating this the other evening when I was on the verge of not writing a poem. It's a very familiar place for me. I don't mean that I was sitting in a swanky cafe gazing into traffic and brushing away the first twinges of poetry. I was at my desk, in front of the computer, a glass of wine sweating on my ceramic Michigan coaster (go blue), husband watching children, no excuses other than, well, being exhausted and overwhelmed and whatnot. Poetry group deadline looming. Comfy bed calling to me like a Canada goose in a retention pond. Okay, that doesn't make sense. But I didn't feel like writing a poem.
I still wrote it. And really, the first two stanzas were like gallstones. I'd started a version of the poem a few days earlier in my office, and it just wasn't going anywhere. Now I'm in love with it. How the hell does that happen?
So what if you opt to give up? Does the idea stay inside your body and eventually dissolve? Does it shuttle over to the nearest trash can and die? Can you add it to your arsenal for later use?
I have a feeling I will be contemplating this for a while. Any thoughts or experiences? How full is your Dumpster?