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.
We had our last open mic for February. We start March off with two features in a row so far. So take the time to enjoy this poem from another all-open mic. Started with an animal theme before veering off a bit. Fin fact: I usually try to place the stanzas in the order of when I heard the poets. This week, I had to switch them around because one of the stanzas made for an obvious ending. Thanks for reading.
Lawless Theories
Goldfish do interpretive dance
to their first look at the sun.
Chickens die happier
when tornadoes
twist off their coops,
pop-top them into first flight.
Lana Turner was an inside job.
Frank O'Hara's poems
covered his tracks while on lunch.
Bedbugs are regular bugs
turned activist, more angry
over your living space than you.
Nature will allow you to walk
blindfolded in their forests--
because it's funnier.
Coal miners at lunch
eat tobacco or sandwiches
because both taste the same
sixteen tons deep.
Crossroads are all
made from fallen crosses,
decayed from lack of faith.
That's why devils love them.
Your epitaph is a tattoo
on your soul. It can cause
more regret than anything
on your skin.
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| One of these readers is a feature next week! Who could it be? |
Special thanks to Laurel Lambert, Yvonne Hamlet, John Lane, Jan Rowe, Bil Lewis and James Van Looy.
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