Response to prompt #1, which was to re-use the first line from a poem to write another. Phew, this was hard. Not loving this (creepy? sadistic?) draft, but what can you do?
Anyone lived in a pretty how town
where noone had asked why she hadn’t left yet.
Nightly, she abandoned her two infant children
who wailed at her absence. Tired,
of routine, life-long remorse, she found
of routine, life-long remorse, she found
rest among the horses in the stable. Breathed
woodsmoke and dung, her remaining source of replenishment,
and laid beside the horses. They were her European lovers,
she said to them, laughing, & admired
the twilit golden hairs of their bellies as they rose and fell.
She guzzled wine that lured her into sleep on the straw.
Brief, lonely, mad, these nights quenched
her with forgiving foreignness. Once,
the twilit golden hairs of their bellies as they rose and fell.
She guzzled wine that lured her into sleep on the straw.
Brief, lonely, mad, these nights quenched
her with forgiving foreignness. Once,
she awoke to Prancer, dark eyes staring down,
thinking it was God's, uttering in a lover’s voice,
Be
my lover. The second time, Prancer’s hoof filled
her breaking mouth. Yes, she yelled, yes, yes, yes,
her children shrieking from their cribs.
Dang, this is creepy. Kind of deliciously creepy. I'm a fan of e.e. cummings though, hard to imagine that first line for anything else. But that IS one tough assignment. Good job!
ReplyDeleteHaha, thank you! I thought I imagined your comment for some reason, in a dream. I guess not.
Delete