Sunday, April 6, 2014

I'm Waiting

I’m waiting for the
weekend to feel Infinite
instead of a
quick, over in a sudden
flash, a house guest
gone before she has
any effect. I’ve been
wrong before, but I assumed
longer days would lead to
longer weekends. Be
it one hour or two, but
enough to notice. How
much difference can
a few hours make? That
much: a stupendous
amount. I mean, come
on. It’s April, which
is cruel, but never
so barbaric we went
crazy wishing it away.


Golden Shovel, a la Terrance Hayes, goes like this:
-Find a poem.
-Use each word in the poem as the last word in each line of a poem you write yourself.

It was napowrimo's prompt for yesterday, and I decided to try it out today. It's not easy, but I'd be game to try it again someday.

You can read Emily Dickinson's "The Infinite a sudden Guest" by reading the last word of each line.

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