My GUILTY PLEASURE

REVISIONS TO this essay have been on my to-do list for weeks.

- KAREN SOLIE

I didn't ignore the list so much as it was absorbed into a larger body of deadlines, the way a conglomerate outcrop looks singular and imposing from a distance, but digging around exposes the bits it's composed of. I have a list somewhere of the materials that make up conglomerate outcrops in southwest Saskatchewan. I made that list to avoid work on a poem that uses the word "conglomerate."

As people do, I write practical, purpose-built lists even when I suspect I will neglect them. They are like snapshots-Christmas lists, pre-travel lists, lists of party supplies and guests. They are occasionally poignant, even painful, in that they document plans perhaps not realized, or not realized as one hoped. Lists are a way to linger in the prospect, which itself feels like a guilty pleasure in that they postpone the risk of failure.