Tuesday, February 10, 2009

a non-emo poem for once

Yep, I am so happy I wrote a non-emo poem I'm going to break my rules and write them down in reverse order of how they were written - the positive poem goes first, even though I wrote it afterwards.


The world is my oyster.
What does that mean?
Roll it over in my hands,
Admire the shell.
The world is turning
At my command.
Feel ridges on the palms of my hands.
Watch the blue-green shimmer in the light.
Open it carefully.
Touch it where it glistens.
Trace the liquid on the surface.
Bring it to my lips
Sip salty-sweet water
Taste the world slowly.
Move my nails around the edges.
Grasp it firmly.
Tear it from the shell,
Swallow it.
I am chewing on the continents,
Drinking the oceans, I consume it.
Pry the suckers from the shell,
Clean it; wash it; drill holes in it.
Wear the world for earrings as a sign.
I have it on a chain;
The world is mine.

This thing (won't honor it by calling it a poem) is something I wrote in Workshop. We had to pair objects with actions.

Whipped cream drips down the cup.
The napkin absorbs the drop.
She holds it up in her hand.
I trace coffee on my mug.
She complains about the coffee here.
I watch ladies tracing paper.
She smokes her Marlboro Red.
I smoke my ultralight.
She flicks it in the street.
We walk along the street.
She looks in storefronts.
I watch her shirt collar.
I'm drinking Shinerbock.
She drinks her Magic Hat.
The river's cold and still.
My car echoes with chill.

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