I also plan to do the poem-a-day challenge that Writer's Digest has set up. If it's like it was last April, we'll be getting prompts and then post our poems on Robert Lee Brewer's blog.
I seem to have jumped the gun by staying up late; there's no prompt yet for April 1.
I guess as the month goes on I'll end up doing more than a poem a day; I imagine I'll use his prompts to post poems over there, but I might want to do different ones here.
The terrifying task of my first post-MFA-program-rejection poem complete, I'm now going to try to get some sleep. This nocturnal life is untenable; next Monday I start a full-time job like most normal people. The last time I had such a job, I was extremely emotionally healthy and mostly uncreative. The day the job all went to hell, I wrote two poems on the Metro platform after walking out of the place.
I see what Thomas Lux says about a certain degree of tension or discomfort being useful to the creative process. I also see that Ted and Sylvia's son just succumbed to the family curse, that the poets in popular culture are all louts or suicides (or both), and that I really do like a normal life watching sitcoms and staying away from the psych ward. Health is very important for an artist.