Stone Soup Croutons is a weekly poem I write using lines and impressions picked 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.
David P. Miller gave us a great reading last night. It was a night of few poets but plenty of poet aficionados, in line for his book. The best kind of night a former librarian could have, I suspect.
David read a few public transportation poems as part of his set, which is partially what fed into this week's poem. You'll have to pull me aside for the other half. But not the title. I'll just tell you now that's from an old George Carlin routine. Thanks for reading.
All Destinations Are Final
Bundles, bundles packed
with all the white matter
their brains can hold.
Shadows tucked in corners
they hope get missed
during bag check.
