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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
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.