Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Poetry: Little Yolk

In honor of National Poetry Month, which starts today, I've decided to participate in the Academy of American Poets' pledge drive. Much like a runner might collect donations for a charity for miles run in a race, by writing a poem every day this month and by raising small donations for those poems, I hope to do my small part to keep an art form I love alive.

I'm not a great poet by any stretch of the imagination, but I enjoy writing poetry from time to time and have always wished I took time to do it more often, so this is a good excuse to force myself to write. At the very least, I expect it will be a fun experiment - I can't imagine keeping up with the daily quota will be easy or that the results will always be something I would normally want to print for public consumption! So, I promise to amuse, if not inspire - maybe both unintentionally (with my bad poetry) and intentionally (to break up the monotony, I may throw in one or two bawdy limericks and/or absurd haiku).

So without further ado, in observance of April Fool's Day, I give you a brief portrait of a fool . . .

Little Yolk

In those days,

She wasn’t the type to burn

Bridges in the name of feminism.

Which isn’t to say

She wasn't a feminist;

She’d just learned to choose

Her battles. She smiled and thanked

The man eating at

The counter

Who said, “You’re smart

For a woman,” a little yolk,

Yellow, dribble

Hanging from his beard.

She thought it was

Futile to argue

With the man

With money

Who didn’t realize

He had egg on his face.

To read other poems or poetry-related posts on this blog, click here.

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