Stone Soup Croutons is a weekly poem I write using lines and impressions picked from Stone Soup Poetry's open mic readers and features. I figure out a title (and sometimes the rest of the poem) later. You can read the other ones I've done since 2015 here.
I also have a book out now collecting the best of my first year of poems. Click here to purchase it.
It was a fun open mic this Wednesday. I hope someday I am able to find words to express the gratitude I feel towards those who help keep my open mic going. This poem doesn't have those words.
I've been feeling a little under the weather and over the hill. This poem is hopefully a culmination of those feelings that I can pack up and toss aside as I start my vacation beginning at 5:00 PM today. I'll still be around, and I'll see you for Denise Washington's feature this coming Wednesday. Thanks for reading.
Exhibition Fight
You got too high
and tried to box God,
only flowers
in your corner
to remind you of
your to-be-hastened
Almighty plays you
like a cat plays
with its corpse toy.
Failed prodigy,
not even a gifted Pegasus
to your name.
Can't parse a wave
from a kraken.
The populace
are sick and tired
of aspiring
people's heroes.
They only trust
the state murdered.
No credible publicist
will get behind you.
The elephant deity
won't squash you
only because
your skunk scent
might rub off,
encase them like amber.
It's summer's end.
Smartass martyrs like you
don't get to go out
in prime limelight.
Go retreat into fall,
wait for bombs to come.
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| See you next week, Jan? |
Special thanks to John Sturm, Bil Lewis, Nancy Dodson, Carol Weston, Karen Szklany, Ernie Brill, Chris Fitzgerald and James Van Looy.
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