This poem was written thanks to David Miller, who donated to my fundraiser for Raise Your Verse,. a six week fundraiser for Mass Poetry's programming. Any one who donates is encouraged to commission me to write a poem or, if there a poet, to send me a writing prompt. David sent this prompt:
"Take one line from the poem by someone else that you most recently read (as of the moment you see this). Include it in your poem."
It just so happens that I was beginning to read Twine, a chapbook by Martha Boss. I took the last line from the second poem in the collection ("some idea") and used it to start the poem below. I tried to write it in a Martha Boss kind of way. Fans of her work will have to determine if I did a good enough job or not.
Thank you for reading, thanks again to David for donating, and please consider donating to Mass Poetry via my page.
Fall Back
This must be what the earth is thinking
after weeks of wishing it could curl itself
into a fetal stress ball, collapse into itself
like the universe is supposed to.
Finally a cool breeze. The sun,
after months of creeping up on you
earlier and earlier, like a petty boss,
has nothing left in him, can only pout
away under rows of obstructing clouds
he had no say in bringing in.
The radiation, like micromanagement,
turning your stomach in laps, is gone
without having to hear you beg mercy
before a committee of trees, spread
evenly apart on a long strip of road,
occasionally throwing you shade
on top of judging you're not harsh
enough to survive his supervision.
It's as if you've been paroled by God,
who you thank, remembering you heard
that the sun only is getting closer to the earth
and God may leave before things get worse.
