I love doing blackout poetry with the Independent every month. I get to play with my coworkers' words! Transcription below in case the blackout tangles your brain.
Quick note: I sometimes make mistakes, but I don't add or change words. If you see a word written in, it was an accidental blackout. :)
That hotbed of jellybeans on the floor form a fake riot.
They call it art.
To force pointed holiday thinking is totally nuts.
Didn't they ask you to dress up like a little weirdo,
like a fool calling the kettle your nuts?
This is the beauty of a strange, dysfunctional squint;
The solid outlines of bizarre shapes love you
Only they will never really understand.
In the flashback, we damage a failing top quickly,
And get shot in the face with a potato.
Unfamiliar hope perfectly captures
The underlying thought we've all entertained:
You made me, and now I'm flip-flops.
Blame gratitude again,
As it inevitably won't want to put a small part of you
In a piece of live performance art.
Reading at BookPeople includes a free and open public,
So keep your eyes peeled for jellybeans.
(Liz Wykoff - People Leader & American Coordinator)
No comments:
Post a Comment