Out my window, dogwood leans
towards rampant kiwi as I wade
into another May day. No pony
for me, one trick or no. No aria
that I can hear. No one will punt
for my points, point perfect toe
and pirhouette prettily. No pest
either or rampant turkeys
on the lawn we do not have. Ten
blinks of an eye. Another mocha.
Your life on Oprah. Hired, fired,
we're hard-wired tired. Oh tenor
Dyer Bennet when all is dire err
and nobody will notice. We span
eras in our careening bobsled.
Go back to bed. What's snapped
has sped. Deny them exit polling
Let's go bowling, eat limes to rind
no one left behind, the doors ajar.
---
Did I say that was a Daily Crossword poem (5/19/09)

--
And today at school we'll poem like ancient Greeks. Eek.
That is to say I'll rip up poems and have them make like experts, like antropological, archeological poetry experts recreating what's been lost like people, maybe poets, did for Sappho. So many ways this will be fun and not so educational but somewhat educational but hitting that other side of the brain, whichever it is, that is the creative, random side. I always forget because, well, you can guess. I'll ask the fifth and sixth graders what the 9 muses were for. That's always fun.