Na/GloPoWriMo 2019 #28: Challenge Write a meta poem or poem about poetry:
Do you know that thing you do to words Anita?
That thing where you bang them together on a page and you
cut and nail and draw all over them
and in the end you stand up and call your Freak show of malformed words
Don’t do that.
Poetry should flow and dance
and leave a trail of starlight in it’s wake
It should shush you into silence
it should make you feel light and
you should always
sit in reverence
as you read it, hear it absorb it into your unyielding skin
in a field
feasting on sunshine.
So in all politeness I reply:
I have pumpkin seeds for brains
and a dark place in my chest where my heart used to be.
I always write about the things crawling and nesting inside of me.
I am like Poetry’s weird Auntie
who shows up at Funerals
and laughs at the graveside
as the coffin is being lowered into the ground
and everyone wonders as they stand there silent and somber
” Who in the Hell invited her?”