fourth floor feminism | sociable speculation

The excellent Duc proposed that we compose some poems together, line by line, for World Poetry Day. This is the Age of C19 however, so we had a live thread in my Facebook Writing Group, and it worked surprisingly well. Devoted readers and Facebook friends alike will know that I love a good live thread, whether that is for The Voice , the Jubilee or Q&A. The first poem was pleasingly symmetrical, the second quite melancholy ... they started out as Follows - -1- how precarious the life of the tree by the road precarious and precious, said the poet the poet with the last roll of TP precarious and precious, said the poet The TP from the tree by the side of the road -2- Hands made to touch, cannot touch, cannot be touched, but must wash, be washed, wash, be washed, wash Birthdays unmarked, But we sing, sing the song, the birthday song when we wash, washed, wept, wash Claire: Emily would be prouder of us if we added some capitalisation and dashes, but otherwise, I like it

I have a writing group that I started specifically so writers could spend some hours in each other’s company. We’d write in silence for an hour, stop for tea and chat, and then write for another hour if that suited everyone. I loved every moment of facilitating those groups, and I got some really excellent writing done in those times, along with making treasured new friends . I had a modest private group on Facebook that supported everyone inbetween the writing groups with announcements of writing competitions. All was going well until the Age of C19 was upon us, and writers retreated to their garrets again. So the writing group went online, and the decision to go online in full was sealed when I went to see my sister, and one of her housemates was a writer. I invited her to join me in a long-running online writing group - The Writing Race by the Australian Writer’s Marketplace . It was lovely to sit on the sofa, participate in a Writing Race, and hear the steady tap of another