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  1. This is the “My Heart” poem from today’s workshop. I’ve added some, changed some others. I hope I haven’t tinkered too much. Is this the right place to post this? This was one of the better workshops I’ve attended. It’s also one of the longest and that made a difference. We had time to develop things.


    My heart is a woofer from the sixties.
    It smacks out the bass and drums.
    My heart used to be a tweeter.
    It got fed up with high “C”.
    My heart wants to be a roll of paper towels
    on sale, three to a pack, no coupons, please.
    My heart is a cheapskate.
    It watches every emotional dime it spends.
    My heart is a suck-up. It’ll do anything
    the boss says and should be ashamed
    of itself, but it’s not.
    My heart wants to retire, see the USA
    in a Chevrolet.
    My heart knows it can’t do this.
    My heart is a light fixture I installed.
    It’s wobbly and always feels it’s about to fall.

    My heart wishes I would eat more pizza
    with pepperoni like I used to because
    that’s the real me:)))
    My heart wants to break free
    and be The Blob ’cause what the fuck,
    so it could devour Cleveland.
    My heart is a prostitute who turns
    the trick of life several times a day
    and more on national holidays
    because she’s so patriotic.
    My heart thinks about trying out for
    Slumdog Millionaire to support a heroin habit.
    My heart thinks it’s a fountain pen.
    dip it in a sea of ink like a giant oil spill,
    write through the summer and autumn.