It was the second day of 2015, but certainly not too late to make a fanciful plan for the next 364 days. A plan to write at least one bad poem every day.
I haven't written much poetry in a long while. I used to write poetry pretty frequently, but it's never been a discipline. It's just happened irrepressibly. So when the fountain turned off, the poetry ceased. When it comes to establishing creative patterns of behavior, as I mentioned before, I'm not very steady. Part of my inconsistency has to do with having a short attention span. But when it comes to poetry, it's mostly because I don't want to write it if it isn't life-changing in some way. Epic. Romantic. Painful. Grand. To commit to a year of writing poetry would be crippling. To commit to a year of writing bad poetry, just so that I'm writing anything at all...I suspect that'll be liberating.