We work with the remainders of the day -
the leftovers, the throwaways, the scraps.
The stuff of song and dance and rhythmic play
that keeps us entertained between our naps.
We always hope to generate the new,
although that quite depends on the remains.
Sometimes it’s stuff with which we can’t make do;
sometimes it cannot justify our pains.
We never know until we make our start.
You take that odd remark, I’ll take the dawn.
Some bits of it will rise, some not, to art;
some other bits may feed tomorrow’s spawn.
We’ve generated both - some duds, some aces,
grandmasters of what the Greeks called poiesis.
[Recording begins at 12'10" of this video:]