Text 24 Apr the shopkeeper is sleeptalking

Too high, creaking restaurant. Lava had mud, an
imminent seed, sax slashed, swan bid, yeah? Kess
veiled, musical seen in mangy.
Restore anonymity on MYTHOS.

Creek lane tubs, sure? Ah! O, hockey sticks, villa decks,
longitude latitude. Crows be Sealandic,
sale at Japan, annex Rhys. Vatican, ack, not Valjean!
Soon, high dawn, pill, go talk and ridicule, yeah?

Ah, key nine: creaking tail-head.
Gym roast? Polite teas? Messy guys? Oh, hellos.
I gave Lyra turkey, peels, and near meat.
My dog, he needs orange juice. Odysseus, see me ahead,

kill the circus sicko and Dexter’s mutts. Nude
on nude, I who veal, marks minute guy jump nude.
Creek lane tulls, ebbs, narratives can stab,
castes cannot. Oh, indeed, FAILED HYPNOSIS. MYTHOS.

Day 23: Take a poem in a foreign language and “translate” it.
Poem used is An Empty Greek Restaurant by Hasso Krull.
With great apology to Estonian speakers.

Text 24 Apr little rabbit

Little Rabbit, go inside
Little Rabbit, stay in the hole
There are foxes out tonight
who love to eat little rabbit meat

Little Rabbit, eat your dinner
Little Rabbit, eat your carrots and peas
Foxes don’t like eating rabbits
that taste like leafy greens

Little Rabbit, come take a bath
Little Rabbit, the water’s nice and warm
Foxes don’t like eating rabbits
that smell squeaky clean

Little Rabbit, time for bed
Little Rabbit, close your eyes
Foxes don’t eat rabbits that are asleep –
even they’re too polite for that!

Day 22: Write a children’s poem.

Text 24 Apr tori amos’ new album

Unrepentant Geraldines will come out this May
and you know me how excited I am for that
you know when I first found out it was raining
but I love the rain and I love Tori so I figured it was a sign
I go on forums and everyone else is excited too
though there are a couple of pessimistic assholes
‘snori lamos hasn’t made a good album in years lol’ excuse me?
on the plus side that annoying Kate Bush fanatic wasn’t in sight
screaming about how Tori ‘TOTALLY COPIED GODDESS KATE GRR’
so yeah I’m so excited oh and I heard she’ll be in New York for her tour
at the Beacon Theatre but goddamnit all the tickets are sold out
maybe what I’ll do is stand outside there and listen through the walls
it sounds crazy I know but hey if I can do it I’ll do it I’ve been dying
to see her in person I’ve been waiting in the rain for years and years
but I love the rain and I love Tori so hopefully things will go well
but that’s enough about me – you moved out of your ex’s yet?

Day 21: Write a New York School-style poem.

Text 24 Apr day 20

Unfortunately, I have no poem for the Day 20 prompt.

Text 19 Apr 2 notes when some nights smell like nuts and fallen fruit

     for my sister

the stories say
on the night of the incised moon
the fallen star-knight
goes to the highest mountain
with his pockets full
of triangular nutmegs
and pulled-apart orange peels
he will wait on the highest peak
until his fellow stars come out
dancing around the incised moon
and he will throw his trinkets
their favourite foods
at the sky one-by-one

he will do this every year
until the night comes
that they take him home

Day 19: Write a poem using one or more of the seashell names in the list.

Text 18 Apr 3 notes snow mage song

From the highest mountain peak,
Its magic my ancestors did seek.
Their quest the mountain lights did bless,
The power of cold, to freeze river and creek!

Ice and snow is mine to command,
Frost and sleet my blood and my band.
My enemies fear me, the maelstrom to come –
The furious blizzard coming from my own hand!

Come white fox, come reindeer,
Come wolf, bear and robin dear,
Let us dance to the cold wind’s song,
To welcome the winter coming near!

I raise my voice to the mountain lights,
To strengthen my magic for frolic and fights,
To continue blessing the snow mage through time,
From snow-coated mornings to cold frosted nights!

Day 18: Write a ruba’i/rubaiyat.

Text 17 Apr 1 note turning oysters in the sand

clarity out of the grain;
crystalline, ice floating at sea
against a teal-colored sky,
waves gently lapping against
the smoothness. water and ice
on my tongue, cool and crisp,
purity down my throat and through
my ears. a tinkling, a pealing, a ringing out
of a voice like crystals, piano keys
like the flow of the ocean. imagine
walking on sand, wading through
saltwater, the sharp roughness of rocks
and oyster shells before finally,
against your palms, the gentle sheen
of mother-of-pearl.

Day 17: Write a poem that uses at least three of the five senses to describe something.

Text 16 Apr 1 note little known facts

The Milky Way is the only galaxy in the whole universe.

Your favourite pasta was invented by the Spanish.

The couple in the apartment above yours still lives there.

Water’s chemical component is HO2.

Minneapolis and St. Paul are found in Wisconsin.

Rabbits are considered sacred to Scientologists.

The fighting from the apartment upstairs weeks before was from the TV.

The Japanese invented vodka in 789 C.E.

Your pet cat will live up to be over 9000 years old.

The couple in the apartment above yours is still together.

Day 16: Write a 10-line poem where every line is a lie.

Text 15 Apr 3 notes a brief description of the accused before her execution (169x a.d.)

They say the girl was a witch’s daughter
and that two nights ago, she cast a spell
that sent all the local girls to the slaughter –

made them sick, drove them mad, gave them hell.
Look how she stares, unremorseful
as she marches to the gallows by the well,  

smiling like a cat, satisfied and full.

Day 15: Write a terza rima.

Text 15 Apr 2 notes den lille havfrue

What is the sea made up of?
Is it made of tears and sea foam?

Is it true what grandfather says
     that once mermaids lived in the ocean?
And there was once one
     who loved a human so much
          that she traded away her voice
               and walked with knives in her legs
                    just to be with him?
And is it true
       that he didn’t love her back
            and he married someone else?

Why didn’t he love her?

Is it true what grandfather says
     that to turn back into a mermaid
          one would have to kill the human
               and drink his blood?
But she didn’t, did she?
Why did she let him live
     and instead dive back into the sea
          to become tears and sea foam?

Why is it that
     every time grandfather takes me to the sea
          I can hear singing?

That is what love is, my dear.

Day 14: Write a poem comprised of questions, except for the last sentence.

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