Heading into Day 4 of #VerseLove, But Had Fun Yesterday Playing with the Prompt of Stealing Words from Other Poets

If you are participating in #VerseLove, you learn that writers and teachers from across the nation are posting and offering feedback to one another's writing on a daily basis. Each day, a new prompt arrives and yesterday's prompt simply acknowledged the importance of reading others and, on occasion, taking a line or two to inspire your own writing. That's what I did, all while thinking about Chitunga's new apartment 6T...I told him while moving him in, "you're bringing 6-T back, them other boys don't know how to act" and laughed. I had no idea it would turn into a game-play poem. All the bolded lines were stolen from other writers and their poems in the first 3 days. 

Next Up, Sixty

b.r. crandall

Apt. 6-T,

10 years 60,

Scott M 

(M. Scott) 

Fitzgerald writes,

“Like Sexy, 

but you know,

with poetry”

The kid is moved.

I moved the kid.

The kid is moving.

The kid moves me.

tree apples don’t fall

  fall apple on trees

           not far at all

  apples 

              all from trees

Charged-up with changes,

mid-twenties changeling,

     chimichurri, chimichunga,

     no, ma’am, pronounced Chitunga…

(he’s bringing 6-T back,

them other boys don’t know

how to act)

seventeen holes spackled

in 6th-floor sexiness

sandpapered sassiness, 

star-spangled happiness

Seventeen holes in the wall
deflated, depleted, a chewed up ball
Nowhere to run and nobody to call! 

a Boxer boxes boxes,

& boxes are moving, 

y’all.

Bedford Ford Bed

Northill North Hill 

hilly north, forth build

billy forth, birth bill.

and don we now our gae apparel

blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah blah

brushing and flossing,
and waxing string 

through fallopian tubes

and teeth - 

so that’s where 

my Irish Spring soap 

went.

Down 12, Up six,

Up 12, Down six,

Tarhills

Duke puke

moving day

rebuke

final four

6-T door

U-haul, the ball,

invisible gods,

standing tall,

elevator contact high

new apartment

muscle fry

book boxes, 

boxed books,

box of books, 

new nook,

hello, Henry…

have you met Harvey?

Harvey, sir…

this is Henry.

chicken panini with pesto

     and toasted mozzarella,

          panini mozarella, 

  I’m not chicken, 

      I’m toast. 

Apt. 6-T,

in 10 years I’ll 60

and I’ll still be sexy, 

You Know, 

but with Poetry.

(I’m bringing 6-T back,

them other boys don’t know

how to act)

and yes, I’ve just been poemed.