poem for We Write Poems, prompt (#50) First lines!
Write a poem that begins with the line, “I’m willing to eat…” (then whatever next).
big yellow bus
I’m willing to eat a big yellow bus. In heavy traffic or light, maybe
like godzilla would, Japanese tourists and all. Vitamins you know.
Especially the digital cameras, they’re really good.
I’m willing to eat tulips in winter before they’re even sure of themselves,
just a good idea waiting to burst forth on the plate. A little maple honey
really sets off the colors under the tongue.
I’m willing to eat clear blue sky, bright sun white buffalo with roosters
on the side, clouds squeezing rain, sponge cake whirlwinds with
lightning bolts, perhaps even a little snow. Sugar of course.
I’m willing to eat self-doubt, frenetic historic tales whispered into
rambunctious sleep, the captain’s first mate, a curry dish, steaming
bowls of salted misconceptions. Buttered words for dessert.
I’m willing to eat a country mile, where the river elbows close.
Maybe it never happened the way I thought but a windy feast
is as good as a fox in the chicken coop. Licking lips.
I’m willing to eat the moon. Would you like a slice?
neil reid © april 2011
Help me please! Maybe it’s already too late. An exercise that’s all process, no result, or is that the result? Nothing serious because I have been. So, a chocolate sunday of words. Stir them up, or me, and here’s what you get. Nothing serious, just because…
