How do you know when a poem is finished?
I’m grateful that a lot of the work I make, be it visual or more conventional, comes to me largely fully-formed. I don’t battle with it, trying to craft it to perfection, or sit and scratch my head trying to get the work out. Most of what I do simply involves getting the idea in my head out and onto paper (or wherever it needs to be), and then moving on to the next. I don’t plan anything, or thrash stuff out to see if an idea will form (though wish I were a little more patient for this approach, as it’s well known how fruitful it can be). Finishing my poetry is more like putting together an IKEA table. I have the instructions and simply need to follow them. I may sometimes be missing a screw or two but for the most part it’s all there before I start, meaning much of what I do is finished before I even put pen to paper. I’m beyond grateful to have a head that works this way. I’ve accepted now that this is how I work and no longer try to force things out that aren’t coming of their own volition. I’ve tried this far too many times, and all it has ever resulted in for me, is unhappiness and stress. I want every creative second now to be spent in the production of work I can see and know I have to do, rather than pursuing nebulous paths that were never meant to be followed. Right or wrong, it’s an approach that suits me.
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