I forget the author and title of this poem, but it was the first exercise we did in class. We were to write in our own line for every second line of the original poem. Surprisingly this wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be. I'm not much of a writer, and therefore it is usually hard for me to come up with things to write, especially on the spot. The words November, and police made me feel like it was some type of cold, dark poem. The police looking for the suspect in the brisk outdoors. Being able to see their breath. Winter coats and gloves. It was like a scene Ive seen in a movie or TV show before. Maybe that's because all I watch is Criminal Minds and Law & Order SVU. I find those shows, the ideas and the minds of sociopaths fascinating. Not in a creepy way that I may be one..its just very interesting. The authors lines are black, mine are blue.
it was always november there, the farms
were emtpy and cold. the man and wife
were a kind of precint; a certian control
there days
had been exercised. the little birds
were silent and
used to collect along the fence.
the sun shone across the snow covered fields.
it was the great 'as though', the how the day went,
as time slowly passed
the excursions of the police
soon ended abruptly with a loud bang.
as i pursued my bodily functions, wanting
air, neither fire nor water, i felt
vibrating to the distant pinch
as every muscle in my body tensed
and turning out the way i am, turning to great you.
