From this past Sunday's NYT Book Review:

Socially, linguistically, personally, Cavafy lived on the outskirts. He had his first homosexual affair around the age of 20. Soon after, he found a job in the Irrigation Office of the Ministry of Public Works -- the "Third Circle of Irrigation" -- where he worked for more than 30 years. He wrote consistently but almost never published through traditional means. There is nothing more detrimental to art, he maintained, than succumbing to "how the public thinks and what it likes and what it will buy."

I don't wholly agree with Cavafy here, but it has been freeing to ignore "where will I republish these?" where my NaPoWriMo efforts are concerned. Career-wise, they'll add up to thirty-odd poems that are unlikely to bring me any income until I pull together a collection or they coincide with an anthology editor's tastes. But they've been fun to write and post...

Latest efforts:

Restless

Objectif-iced / Journey

And today's prompt was "haiku":

Tufts of beige hair
drift by warm eggs,
bird scolding dog.

- pld