The ninth exercise...

took most of the first two hours on the second day of the workshop. We read a Elizabeth Bishop's "Sestina," and then talked about the form. Harry talked about the troubador history and of various approaches to the form, how it had fallen in and out of fashion. He mentioned Ashbery's "The Painter," and a few others.



Then he asked a classmate to go to the board, and asked us all to call out words. After we assembled a good list, we narrowed it down to nine, and then argued about those until we had these six:



form

teeth

orange

flow

open

tunnel



I really wanted to nix orange, but nobody would let me. Harry then explained the pattern of repetition, and wrote a schematic on the board. We copied the words in the right order into our notebooks down the right margin, so we'd have space for lines in front of them. Harry also read one of his own sestinas--and unfortunately I don't recall the title--but it was a prose sestina. We could approach the exercise that way if we liked.



Many people seemed relieved. Remember, I was the only poet in this class. The other students wrote fiction. Harry didn't want anyone feeling anxious--the workshop's purpose was to relieve us of our anxieties about writing. Expectant faces.



He said to take 15 minutes and write our sestinas. Even I laughed at that at that one--the last time I wrote a sestina it took a couple of days, and I'd been able to choose my own end words! Well okay, we all said we'd gave it a shot.



Believe it or not, I came up with this poem below in about 15 minutes. (Not that it scans--usually I go for a regular meter as well.) Everybody else managed their's too. Many in prose, some in lines. I think we were all really surprised.



Spelunker Sestina



I like her because she thinks, forms

her own opinions, has intellectual teeth

that aren't afraid to bite. Her orange

hair is nice too, the way it flows

down her back. Such an open

face. It's awful we lost her in the tunnel!



When we entered the tunnel

she was right behind me. "Form

a single line," the guide said, as he swung open

the gate. In the black light everyone's teeth

glowed like mouthfuls of ghost. "Water flowed

through and cut this chasm," he said. "See the orange



stalagtites? It's minerals that colored the deposits orange."

She was still behind me as we moved into the tunnel's

main cavern. The line of tourists continued to flow

along, camera-snapping. We held hands. "This was formed

in about 40 BC," said the guide. She smiled, all teeth

in the dark. "Imagine the first person to find the opening



to this place," I whispered. She nodded, eyes wide open,

stretched for scant light. After a few steps, a guy in an orange

parka got between us. I bared my teeth

at him, but he didn't notice. We headed through the tunnel,

toward the exit. I know we signed release forms,

but still! I can't believe we lost her. It's not like Flo



to wander off. She can't read a map. When driving, her tears flow

everytime she misses a turn. Then I have to open

the glove box and set us straight again. Our form

of relationship is like that. We cooperate. The orange-

parka guy--it's his fault. If he hadn't been so tunnel-

greedy we'd never have been apart. God, I'd like to bust his teeth.



The guide keeps clicking his tongue against his teeth,

saying "Surely, we'll find her." A river still flows

down there somewhere. Maybe she's beside it, off the main tunnel.

There's no other way out--just here and where we came in by the "open"

sign. She's probably hungry. She packed an orange

in her purse, so that's good. I'm going to file a formal



complaint when this is all over. Orange-parka guy's teeth

aren't safe from me yet. Damn this tunnel! It's bad form

to lose a tourist. Flo! Flo! Come out into the open!



It could use some revising, I know, but since I'd never had any spelunker tourists in mind as a subject before, I was pretty impressed with the way the sestina form and the imposed words guided me to write a narrative that worked for them. In fact, I got sort of carried away and the lines got longer and longer.



A few people read their results after the break--one was particularly excellent, and all were interesting. Not bad for 15 minutes, minus prep work, huh?



(Note: I'm off for my media-free weekend. I'll have to post the exercises from the last section of the workshop on Monday afternoon.)