110 Words

Even if it’s just a few desultorily drawn up words at the end of the world, on the butt end of pandemics… Why are we here anyway? What does it really matter? Well, we spend our lives constructing meaning out of meaningless things, and when we are bereft of these meaningless things we are unhappy and feel we have been robbed of something. But what if the something never meant anything… then why? All I have to do is write toward the number 100, and then that suffices for this exercise, and then I’m ten words short, then six, then two… then three over… then that’s enough at 110 words…

“I tell my students what I tell myself, write every day, even if it’s only a few lines, an image, a funny rhyme, a snatch of overheard conversation. All this is like chopped vegetables for the soup pot or witches cauldron of poems.”

— Dorianne Laux