Illot-Mollo

an in-class piece I did with my grad students, 5/9/24.

For an explanation about what Illot-Mollo is and how it works, please to read about the last time I did this, with another group of grad students in my workshop class at DU. This is one that we did together last night. The shared words are bolded.

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Illot-Mollo (5/9/24)

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Freewrite is always an issue.

Well, not an issue exactly, more a moral set of standards. 

Before I wrote memoir (and even mostly still, let’s be honest), I believed nobody would want to hear any of this nonsense in my head: lost fears, found conversation, holy writ, or what. What have you. Have you? I didn’t think so.

Beep beep goes the coffee maker, and even that doesn’t fuel the brain after a certain shattered age. 

The age of immortal Tolkien Elves is out of the loop, the Age of Men is in the feed. These days, most would choose the bear, though. And who can blame them, indeed?

Guttersnipes know. Beggars know. Fruit flies and flying fruits know, too, all too well, on their circus trapezes and chrysalis silks. 

Speaking of: that scar tissue in my wrist sure does feel the pain of its age. Did the ink sink into it, or is it only the sickness?

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