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While Ryan Moore, Joel, James & I sat at The Grill waiting for our food to arrive, Ryan invited us to join him in a "writing exercise" in which we'd take turns composing short poems on the back of Ryan's napkin, using the same three words. The guys chose "chicken," "car," and "tomato." The goofy results follow... (I refuse to comment further, although y'all are more then welcome to share your thoughts.)
Ryan:
The car hit tomato.
c
h
i
c
k
e
n
It
went
s
q
u
i
s
h.
Joel:
Cluck to the chicken
Clack to the back
Frick & a frack
Tomato got wacked
Atop a junked jalopy
I am the car.
James:
Her car leaves
Dinner awaits
Chicken, corn, southern style
No tomato sauce
She has more shopping to do
Dinner will wait
Karen:
why did I ever
cross that road
like that chicken
on its existential quest for the Other
had I stayed I would have watched
you speed away in your car and it wouldn't have mattered,
you would have been far in the distance,
safe, contained, like relish in a ramekin
but instead I wander across the pavement
jostling my heart
a bruised tomato |
