No Ideas Makes Me Free Type
I start out with no ideas at all. Then I begin to free type.
I type words that rhyme – bubble, double, trouble, he, me, knee.
The trick is to keep adding words even if they make no sense.
Then I envision Trixie, my muse. She is dancing, prancing, and lancing.
Lancing a banana, lancing a bell, lancing her way to the bowels of hell.
She is a minx who is always doing something to me – cutting off my head,
forcing me to walk the plank, rolling me into wet sticky syrup.
I imagine my head sticking out its tongue at her, and being kicked.
If the “what if Trixie ……..” stops working, I get out a book about animals.
Or a book about trees, stars, ESP, planets, dinosaurs, pirates, or something else.
It matters not what the book is about, only that it is interesting to me.
I choose words I like and I type them up – meiosis, mytosis, planetary, astral.
If nothing pops up, I put a dictionary or a Thesaurus on my lap.
I begin thumbing through it, choosing the most tantalizing words.
Pantywaist, masticate, which leads me to plasticate, bastifate, chastilate,
I love making up my own words the very most actually.
Sometimes I am rhyming, other times I just throw down a scenario
That did not actually happen but almost happened.
Because reality is fun, but “creality” is better.
The trick is to type and keep typing, not stopping. Edit later.
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