-The Merry Retch-
I heard about this poetry form, the beau present, today by following NaPoWriMo and I had to try it. It is a poem where you can only use words that contain letters available in a given name. I think my mistake was using my own name (Tommy Richter). It, this is not the poem I expected to write when starting with my name as a source of derivation. Also, it sounds way too high-English for my taste. But you can only do so much for sentence structure with nine possible letters. I might have done myself a favour if I used “Thomas” instead; I missed those A’s and S’s dearly. But I couldn’t resist the Y of Tommy…and this is what I got for it: —- -The Merry Retch- To cheer my memoir I met the erotic other itch. Tho it cry mythic, I...
Read More-Bar Codes For The Dating of Last Week’s Milk-
The question paper or plastic? Is better in reference to back massages. In that case, plastic. Go paper on the crevice next to the canned tomatoes. I would like my receipt to use knuckles. Don’t squash the sourdough. Should I put raw meat in its own protective? Don’t tell me to have a nice day, if you just nestled toothpaste in with cauliflower. I already swiped my card, and that mechanical click hasn’t yet made a humm-clunk. I wonder if I should have got more bowtie pasta. Those oblong plastic batons make my unsalted butter more distinct than her TV dinners and frozen kale. What am I making for dinner? Perhaps this shirt has too many stains to wear in a salad. I could have gotten a cart but instead I thought my elbows were crook enough for a weekend. 00 Be the...
Read More-Poetry Process And How To Guide-
Grind coffee beans using a paper clip. So the resulting bean dirt, mostly bean, could brew fly portions coffee. Or perhaps wield a doorstop to glue envelopes shut. The thuds. The crumpling. You mash and call for scotch, or maybe tape. Educe smiles by adipose cells instead of muscle. As if smirking was something you did before. Then breathe. Almost. It takes. Somehow a sponge is involved; its porous pomposity. Leech. Or more drink. Foam gets all up in that. Finally there’s a gag reflex. And before you words. Like caffeine, rushed and delible. As if some sense. Hold backspace until page is achromatic. Take up knitting. 00 Be the 1st to vote.Share...
Read More-An Epitaph out of Respect for String Beans-
Ho-hum he died. Thumbs his main accomplishment. They stuck out, he more… protruded, amuck did run his gullet. There he lies six deep in spry, hair glopped like jelly, nose akin to anchor rusted. Shows how much he maladjusted. 00 Be the 1st to vote.Share...
Read More-Purposeful Nimbus Musing-
She lampposts a jig. The street is sheen and plastic; her hat a marionette. It should be raining. But maybe she is too much slatch anyway. Like she prefers it to be wrong and sunny. That way she can babble and be her own puddles. Fog is she, but something more denude. I get the idea she would have a rummy face in photographs. Always a little tilted like Picasso’s drunken selfies. Then she passes. 00 Be the 1st to vote.Share...
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