Laundry Poems and Writer's Block

at the Crossroads

Hello, Poetry Friend

This month I’m writing about the joint art & poetry show I’m doing with artist Nan Henke called Crossroads: at the junction of Poetry and Painting. If you’re in Fredericksburg, Texas in April, drop by the Fredericksburg Art Guild and check out our collaboration!

There’s a fancy $20 word for poetry about artwork — it’s called ekphrastic poetry. It simply means that the poet paid attention to a piece of artwork and wrote about it. That’s something I’ve been doing for the last couple of months to prepare for our show, and it has definitely cured any bits of writer’s block that were skulking around. It forced me to start with art instead of with the blank page (surely a more beautiful place to begin).

“The cure for writer’s block” was first published in The Joy of Poetry and has also been published at Every Day Poems. It’s fairly lighthearted, but it was written during a dark season in my family. At the time my washer and dryer were located in the garage, and I’d open the door to the backyard to get some fresh air while I loaded and unloaded. Nan saw something in the poem and made two paintings — one of laundry in process and one of laundry neatly folded.

The cure for writer’s block

is laundry.
Cram both arms with dirty clothes and
stuff them in the washer.
Brim the detergent, vinegar, bleach, if you dare.
Sit back down.
Write a bit more.
In thirty minutes or an hour, the dinger will ding.
Heap the wet mess into the dryer,
but wait.
The dryer is already packed because you forgot
to fold the last load. Divest the dryer.
Fold the clean clothes, arrange them into piles:
one for him, with you beside him (where you always are),
one for the son, one for the daughter —
the closest they will ever be is these towering piles
of bras, boxers, T-shirts, jeans, uniforms.
Now the dryer is void. Fill it.
Sit down again.
Write.
When the dinger dings, ignore it.
Write on.
Forget to clear the dryer.

—Megan Willome

I didn’t have to tell Nan what my poem was about. She sensed it and painted more than words could say.

Poetry Journal

• This month you have a choice! Either write a poem from Nan’s laundry paintings or make a piece of art from my laundry poem.

• Whichever way you go, take time to pay attention to the creative piece you’ve chosen. What do you like about it? What questions do you have? What is it saying to you?

• Read the poem again, aloud (if you didn’t the first time) or take another good look at the paintings. Is there anything you notice this time that you want to add?

• If you like, email me what you create.

Happy Poeming!

Megan