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 collecting the best of my first year of poems. Click here to purchase it.
Stone Soup came back on Wednesday. I'm glad it did. I'm thankful for C.C. Arshagra giving me the means to host the reading and put it on YouTube. The extra work gives me something to look forward to, like this poem.
More writing to do today. Gotta go. Thanks for reading.
Day One of Your New Regime
will be your new family crest,
the state plant whatever your neighbor
"Hang On Sloopy" the state song.
"Bleed her dry the state motto.
Angels hide away waiting for protection
money before they save everyone.
Whoever you're with after the deluge,
you're with them for the rest of your lives.
They have marshland to sell you for your
dream house. Grandpa never told you
about these days because he was lying
(it comes with the thumbs). In the new
world, poets just die on stage, left like
flowers the butterflies don't bother
to salvage before first morning frost.
Tyrants are just tyrants after the first kiss,
who knew? Eternity is forever? Let's hope not.
Secret illuminati messages tell you truths
in our alphabet recited sideways, to reboot
mind, body and soul. They want your roots
upheaved to flavor their coffee, glutton
for your perceived penance. You bow to
the ground with such velocity, nature opens
up, offers you a final way out, before day two.
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