Seven: I almost forgot it

I was sitting here, in one of the lulls of the day, wondering what I should be doing next. And I was just reaching into my bag for my iPad, visions of Words with Friends dancing through my head, when I remembered that this task had fallen through a crack in my brain. Whoops.

So here goes.

I'm taking today's prompt from the NaPoWriMo site: Our (optional) prompt for Day Seven comes to us from Gloria Gonsalves, who challenges us all to write a tritina. The tritina is a shorter cousin to the sestina, involving three, three-line stanzas, and a final concluding line. Three “end words” are used to conclude the lines of each stanza, in a set pattern of ABC, CAB, BCA, and all three end words appear together in the final line.

To make my task even more interesting, I'm going to select three words from my word box and try to use them (as end words? we'll see...): vagina, slippers, winner.  Folks, I swear this grab wasn't rigged. The first word I pulled out of the box was actually "vagina." And it's not in my handwriting, either.

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Vagina Tritina

To become an authentic female poet, you must pen a poem about your vagina.

It can't be about another woman's vagina -- it has to be your own. Leather slippers,

cigars and smoking jackets, violet ink in Waterman fountain pens ... real poets

know you can't produce poetry with simple props. To inhabit the poem,

you must write from the center of your being, of everything -- from your vagina,

that in-folded bit of you where once you came out, slipping

into here and "her" with ease or struggle or both, head to foot a bloody slipper

dipped in mother/mystery, in the amniotic stench of infinity. A poet

must strip herself naked and turn from the mirror to show us her vagina

as it is: slippery, infinite, at once something and nothing, one and won.