Your Wednesday Morning Poetry

 

 

Years ago, Lo Gallucccio sang the e.e. cummings poem "the boys i mean are not refined" at Stone Soup Poetry. Going down memory lane made me want to look up the poem again. Here it is, courtesy of  AllPoetry.

Stone Soup Croutons, 8-15-19, Trump in New Hampshire

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.

 Stone Soup had an open mic last night. Tonight is the Boston Poetry Marathon. Admittedly, all my energy is focusing on that even thought I have to work to do today, including this poem. It was a small poem last night, hence the small poem. Had some fun with it based on the news in my inbox. The fact that Gawaine Ross started with an E.E. Cummings poem helped.

I'm planning an ambitious Croutons-style piece for this year's marathon like the one I did last year. If I screw it up, you won't hear me discussing it ever again. For now, here's my little poem, and thanks for reading.


Trump in New Hampshire

Republican wind
blows room apart
windows only close.