Challenges
Here's how it went down: while my juniors were "foraging" in search of odd inspirations for poems, one of my libidinous mob ("mob": HA!: a class of nine folks) surfed into a news item about Pamela Anderson's "pregnancy." I challenged him to write three poems about PA which did NOT invoke the usual buzzwords, etc., etc. "Impossible," he said, and walked away from the bait. I took the challenge myself, grabbed a random handful of Wikipedia'd PA, and started stitching. Look up the meaning of "Pamela" and it is "honey," therefore the HONEY SUITE.
HONEY SUITE
i. Not a square corner left
Ladysmith waitress, Finnish
native,
Saarijärvi on
her mother’s side—
Daughter of Carol,
Centennial babe, she
Moved two hours earlier.
Taken down to the field,
she returned
& accepted—
thought by some to be real.
Thinly veiled, she suffered
miscarriage—on stage—
Naked fodder for
the sake of the joke.
ii. Heather Biblow
Her parents & brother,
4:08 in the morning,
shown on the stadium screen.
Fran’s rival,
thinly veiled,
one or two covers
describing the young—
iii. Quinn
Co-written
the first time,
she spoke revealingly,
stalking
the critical bomb:
time to raise her children,
blurred out
for the sake of the job.
HONEY SUITE
i. Not a square corner left
Ladysmith waitress, Finnish
native,
Saarijärvi on
her mother’s side—
Daughter of Carol,
Centennial babe, she
Moved two hours earlier.
Taken down to the field,
she returned
& accepted—
thought by some to be real.
Thinly veiled, she suffered
miscarriage—on stage—
Naked fodder for
the sake of the joke.
ii. Heather Biblow
Her parents & brother,
4:08 in the morning,
shown on the stadium screen.
Fran’s rival,
thinly veiled,
one or two covers
describing the young—
iii. Quinn
Co-written
the first time,
she spoke revealingly,
stalking
the critical bomb:
time to raise her children,
blurred out
for the sake of the job.
posted by murat11 at 8:24 PM
2 Comments:
Bravo, Murat! A taste of honey with absolutely no square corners.
You've accomplished a feat. You've actually made me curious enough to read more about Ms. Anderson.
Your mob, they're lucky stiffs.
You may have read all you want to about her, but still, as we all know, there is so much more about all of us. I did not know she was Canadian: as you grab a handful of information, it's funny how names and phrases take on their own "holy" resonance, as if telegraphing the soul that surrounds our surfaces.
And I am lucky and blessed to have the mob.
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