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 an award nominated book out now collecting the best of my first year of poems. Click here to purchase it.
World's in climate change hell, but at least we had a nice open mic on Wednesday. I freely admit to stealing the idea in David Miller's first poem and forcing it into the rest of this poem. Luckily, the rest of the open mic helped enable me. It's nonsense once again, but it's fun nonsense.
Looking forward to Andrew K. Peterson's feature next week. Until then, here's the poem. thanks for reading.
Lonely Bowl Grieves Cheating Dish
No one asks what follows
after cow hurdles moon, only
hard ground, mocking dog in sight?
Guess what happened to
American Woman
American Woman
Right to the breadline,
the waiting too hungry
to be tempted.
No hand-me-down
wealth in search for
hand in marriage.
She's left to dance
between opposing sides
of latest war,
hopscotch, hope to land
on squares of mercy
and kindness.
Old man once snoring
snarls from earth bed.
Get your heads out
of his damn clouds!
Why can't rhythm
of feet ever lull him?
Francis Scott Key
pleads: Please throw
his banner away.
Lost hirelings and slaves
keep knocking at tomb.
It's nothing he wants now.
It's nothing he wants now.
Leave it out for racoons
like any old trash, yearn
for new nation's birth.
Our troubled water's
walkway in disrepair
barely holds up pebbles.
Trolls underneath exposed
go out for ice cream, never
come back down river.
Schoolmasters freely admit
they can't discern fairy tale
from fable from nonfiction.
They leave reality as
open book exam, teach us
to follow nothing.
Special thanks to David Miller, Jan Rowe, Mark Lipman, Laurel Lambert, Carol Weston, Nancy Weston, Jim Dunn, John Sturm, Patricia Carragon, Ethan Mackler, James Van Looy.
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