Blank Page Comments

Your words capture the sheer terror of confronting the blank page. And terror amplifies rather than diminishes as the poem goes on. Psychologically, your poem is very astute. The writer's mind is part of the problem, so longing to create, so ready to articulate, so committed to communicating - There's too much energy piled up there, expectations and reality get tangled up and then it's like nothing can flow the way writing must. The writer has been reduced to a worm but that worm is stubbornly committed and slowly overcoming writer's block with a vivid poem about writer's block. It's like Yeats's passage, Now that my ladder's gone / I must lie down where all ladders start / In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart.