Stone Soup Croutons, 7-18-19, Too Boring to Bust

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.

Last night was another all-open mic. I appreciate anyone coming out during what's been such an exhausting week, even if it ended up being cooler yesterday. I kept the poem as simple as the open mic was. I have a lot of work to do and hopefully will have something to announce in a week or two. Until then, I'm in some kind of semi-depressed, middle ground waiting room. The poem reflects that. Thanks for reading.


Too Boring to Bust

None of us know
the first step to peace,

but if anyone asked
we could name someone

we'd be willing to strangle
so we could achieve it.

Grey is the signature color
of too many of us.

So many drunken sailors,
no one to carry our tune.

War is inevitable, but not
the songs that call them wars

from this freak sideshow,
all rubes, no barker.

Everyone's an old stray, unable
to hear a potential owner's call.

Each here an old scandal
that lacked a good excuse,

bridges too boring to burn,
waters too calm to notice.

 

Special thanks to Gawaine Ross, Jan Rowe, Laurel Lambert, Martha Boss and James Van Looy.