Location: Jarrod’s Coffee, Tea & Gallery, 154 W Main St, Mesa, Arizona, 85201
Bring your holiday haikus, Krampus contos, dark carols, solstice sonnets, Chanukah stanzas, Christmas canzones, spoken word sestinas, Kwanzaa tankas, Diwali rondeaus, New Year senryus, Epiphany epigrams, Three Kings quatrains, Festivus terza rimas, or you know, some free verse shenanigans.
New Poem Challenge! Prepare a “cracked Carol” to read! Take your favorite (or not so favorite) holiday song/Carol and fracture and reimagine it as only you can!
White Elephant Exchange: Bring an item that cost you NO money (and you didn’t make) – something you found, something you were given – we’ll do some kind of ridiculous exchange and be sure to send you home with something even less valuable than when you showed up (I’m looking at you, Snooki Ornament).
LUGHNASADH: LA FEILL MOIRE. HE SAID “I RECONCILE LOVE’S ENDURANCE BECAUSE LOVE IS NOT COVERT.” I WONDERED. WITH ME I TOOK HIS VISAGE. THERE WAS NOTING SHY BETWEEN US NOW.
I already gave you a plan. Heliocentric smoke signals. Sunwise. Sojourner, I told you you must shut the one sparrow within your mouth. Shut within vesper, the whole of the afternoon. You knew without doubt the incomplete animal I’d become. Small vice, my delusion. You multiplied the consequence of the dead. You whispered it. You blessed fields. Among patterns in my voice you tarried. I followed your irregular direction, the necessary fragment, later knives and trees. You appeared to pass among those I loved. Quickly you offered blight. Bright hawks as a swift shimmering geometric. Spotted leaves you encouraged among maples. What supplication must failure bring me. Your location’s trail permits a cold grace. My feck of immunity, your air.
Presently the empire recedes; we are corrected or we are alone. Presently I am part of the dog pack at the end of table. No, we may no longer go to the caves no matter how they please us. I saw myself shine. I saw an airiness beyond me. I saw that You were walking inside the map, unburdened. That time when the narrow depth of the water bore us. My message was the need for truth. I filled a bucket with coins and gave my gatherings to the soldiers. Inconsolable that every pinch of flower-shaped flame might loosen from me. Where might I keep the small armatures. Once there was myself and that was “identity.”
You must be logged in to post a comment.