There’s an hour and a half left of April, I’m dead tired, and I have to squeeze out 3 more poems.
The good news is, I just compiled the 27 I did manage to write, and they aren’t as bad as I thought they were. I originally intended to post one of each “type” of poem I did here. I’ve already posted a fortune cookie poem, an imitation, and a magnetic poem.
I attempted to post this year’s pantoum, but the spacing wouldn’t cooperate and I was too tired to fight with it. And you need proper spacing to get the full pantoum effect.
So here’s last night’s random journal poem, instead:
Don’t laugh, she says,
It’s happened before.
It’s my sister’s birthday
Words litter my table
the rain pours outside
and her temperature rises.
Ponies spin in circles.
In my dreams, I’m always moving —
stooping under low ceilings,
the scent of mildew clinging to me.
I turn my eyes away from German windmills
and try not to think of home.
Coming up tomorrow: the month’s worst poems, and the news of whether I hit 30 or not.