Following the example of Schmutzie via a project from Amy Turn Sharp, here's a poem that took five minutes to write. I had no subject or particular place to go with this, but I decided to post the result, no matter what.
“His father in law is Ingmar Bergman,” houseguest says.
Spouse generalizes, pulls a thread out into a balloon,
which is where we go, on a raft that feels like spoons
lashed together from suppositions.
Spoons gathering water, each taking on their tiny share,
and down we go.
Full fathom five my facebook updates,
my networks going on without me
like a horn that pours forth salt into the oceans,
just brining up the place.
What a waste.
I've got places to go, copyrights to infringe,
a beard to brush out before the ants come
on their tiny feet.
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