So the city won't rattle.*

I offer a few quiet

words under my breath. (1)

“I wish you a tongue

scalded by tea.”(2)

“I was born

of the fist. The hot Irish

Temper.”(3) “I am a master of Escape. Show me a body,

I’ll show you an exit ramp.”(4)

(For,) I want everything

to call me night.(5)

This is the dream where I play

God. And the front door opens(6)

In lakes, floating

logs ignite, burn. All the

fury is finally here:(7)

Once wayfaring strangers(8) as tall as steal as the New York Times(9)

that once they sang from our dark street (10), the song goes: Heart.

Ribcage. Envelope.(11)

____________________

(1) Adam Falkner, Poem for the Lovers at Pickerel Lake, http://friggmagazine.com/issuethirtysix/poetry/falkner/pickerel.htm

(2) Jeanann Verlee, Guilt, Not Grief, http://www.wordriot.org/archives/4780

(3) Jeanann Verlee, The Brawler, http://www.radiuslit.org/2011/04/09/radius-roger-bonair-agard-jeanann-verlee-adam-falkner/

(4) Joanna Hoffman, On Learning to Open My Eyes, http://www.pankmagazine.com/three-poems-37/

(5) Kallie Falandays, If Morning Never Comes, http://www.pankmagazine.com/two-poems-75/

(6) Benjamin Sutton, Notes from the Daydreaming, http://anti-poetry.com/anti/suttonbe/

(7) Jenny Sadre-Orafai, Treasure In Timber, http://www.pankmagazine.com/two-poems-74/

(8) Lauren Yates, The World According to My Heart, http://usedfurniturereview.com/2013/03/20/the-world-according-to-my-heart-by-lauren-yates/

(9) Robert Gibbons, These Mean Streets, http://www.poembeat.com/fall2011/RobertGibbons.html

(10) Michael Lauchlan, Unseen Larks and Immeasurable Intervals, http://www.thrushpoetryjournal.com/march-2013-michael-lauchlan.html

(11) Leigh Philips, Dear New York City, Learn Gentle, http://www.thrushpoetryjournal.com/march-2013-leigh-phillips.html

(*) Jeanann Verlee, Good Girl, http://www.thrushpoetryjournal.com/january-2013-jeanann-verlee.html

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Notes: Note: Following Nicole Homer’s Prompt. (Here: http://nicolehomer.tumblr.com/post/47959258465/niprowrimo-11-30-or-finders-keepers) I did a found poetry, which I found (pun) relaxing, enjoyable, and a bit stressing. It’s a little difficult in a sense that the natural flow—your, the poet’s, natural flow, doesn’t come. But then when you look at it, read each line, it seems that everything fits so cohesively and so magnificently that it forms a new piece.

Also, judging from this piece, you’ll know my favorite poet as of the moment. But basically, I used poems published from different online poetry magazine, such as Pank, which I read often times.

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