Stone Soup Croutons is a weekly poem I write using lines and impressions picked up from poems overheard from Stone Soup'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. To paraphrase Lorne Michaels, this poem doesn't go up because it's ready, it goes up because it's Friday morning.
Linda Carney-Goodrich gave us a great feature last night.She was amazing, and I enjoyed the open mike before her set. Also, we had more miming with James Van Looy and Marty Levin. It also influenced the poem below. At least I don't mention mimes in my poem like last week. Noting wrong with that, but I just don't know how I feel about a series of mime-based poems. Thanks for reading.
Polished
You're turned into the block of wood
she always thought you were.
Now you'll be allowed in her room,
your body placed on the windowsill
they thought you'd hang yourself over.
Her wish granted, a quiet house,
an uncluttered companion. She still wonders
where all this is going. You wonder
why you can longer move.
She rubs you every morning for luck,
keeps the dust off your top for hope
of more beach days, her daughter's flight
beyond where water and sky meet,
that she meets her own armless lover,
unable to act on what they want.
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| World Mime Wrestling! |
Special thanks to Angelo D'Amato, Jan Rowe, Laurel Lambert, Michael Igoe, Martha Boss, Marty Levin, James Van Looy and Linda Carney-Goodrich.
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