Friday, March 17, 2006

Poetry Friday: An Experiment

There once was a man from Nantucket....

I want to bring back Poetry Friday to this blog (you'll see evidence of past attempts in my right panel, all body parts I think, "Poems about....").

PSYCH!

I actually have no poetry for today, however.

(I do have body parts I'm thinking about, tho.)

I want to do an experiment, right before your eyes, TADA! Since poetry doesn't have to rhyme, or have any sort of metered pattern, I want to try a 'Free Write', a stream-of-consciousness thing, see what happens there. My plan is this...I'll open the dictionary and stick my finger in it and write about that word.

Five minutes of straight writing, I hit "Publish Post", and later see what kind of crap is out there. This will be interesting.

I've gotta get the dictionary, hold on.

"HIGHWAY"

Go.

HIghway highway creaking cement staircase Germany transporting tanks to battles and I think HItler thought they were the literal bomb, and now we use them to go get ice cream and hair treatment and bicycle clips and prophilaticsholyhell and when I was

in jersey that's New Jersey with my friend Kath when I wanted to move out there and everyt iem we wanted to go somewhere she'd get on the highway, one mile away and she'd want to get on the highway in her mom's boyfriends Cadillac with the cushy red velvet seats, and we'd drive ten minutes to go get icee something and she'd use the damn highway, when i asked why she said because we ALL use the highway, it's what we do

and I didn't like it one bit

the highway near my house near my yard i can hera the semis going by on a soundless day theres semis with radials squeeling and never is there more than

ihave a recurring dream of highways i don't know the connection but i start on an entrance ramp and if i go left i go on a sort of mark ryden path it's all too stark and the highway curves and goes straight and greenandwhite signs are everywhere telling me where to go

i get lost everytimne and can't find my wayhome and i turn around and turn around and if
i get back to the place where i entered i can go right

and if i go right the highway looks like downtown grand rapids wher eit curves near the baseball park and then the highway turns city and the side streets lead me to in my dreams pet food, and once there i lost my underwear and searched with my brother to find it and then we ate something, not my underwear, but then i couldn't find my car to get on the highway and then i did and thendrovepast the entrance again and got lost somewhere cranes and tansk of

(Afterward: My underwear? Hmm.... I use the word "AND" a lot. I sound drunk, or on that edge of sleep when you have to brush away the bats of random thought. Wild, man. Happy St. Patrick's Day! If you're not wearing green, pinch your bottom and imagine that I did it.)

4 Comments:

At 9:28 AM, Blogger Stroll said...

Totally forgot the green this morning. So I just followed your directive to self-pinch...

 
At 12:35 PM, Blogger Mona Buonanotte said...

Stroll: The good thing about self-pinching is you can do it as hard as you want. And think dirty thoughts while you do it.

 
At 7:36 PM, Blogger Pisser said...

...so you're thinking that I don't ALWAYS pinch my bottom and imagine that you did it? ;)

 
At 8:56 AM, Blogger Mona Buonanotte said...

Pisser: I'm the one who pinches you and then looks innocent and all, "What???"

 

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