April Is National Poetry Month. What We've Got So Far: A List of Crazy Art Shows, Surprising April News, and the Little Crocus That Could

  
       It's April! National Poetry Writing Month invites poets (a big-tent concept) to write a new poem each day. Here's what I've come up with so far, after getting a late start. 
          My poem for April 3 follows from a prompt to write a "list poem" consisting entirely of invented names for new bands -- or, perhaps, romance novels, TV sitcoms, etc. Taking off from that concept I chose titles for new art installations.




4. 3 Brand New Art Installations: Accompanied By Lavish Illustrations (and chanted to the melody of "Durga Ma" by Edo&Jo)
The Garden of the New Broken Future O Zen, O Now Und Zen Green Hells Where the Hardhat Ants Raise Cities to the Sky The Garden of Fig Trees and Future Stress
Tiny Worlds Descending From Stories of Gods Clashing Airplane Views of Hidden Continents Roiled by Glacial Melting Octopussy Gardeners: Eight Little Garden-Gloved Hands Make          Light Work of Spring Planting Beneath the Undiscovered Seas New Reefs Are Forming Inorganic Plastics and The Chain Migrations of the Sins of the   Peculiarly Corrupt Cleansing Hate: Destroy the Photos and Plastic Figurines of Those Whom You Truly Detest Courtiers of the New Millennium, Who Wait with Trembling Knees, Bad Teeth, Phony Resumes, and Ignorant Diplomas Trapped Doors of the Anthropocene: Reptilian Teeth, Plastic Scales, Many-Legged Cretins The Bonsai of Recollected Vanities Hung by the Neck From Tiny Trees  ... Coming to you at a nearby museum or gallery.


4/1/18: At Long Last April
What a heavy antidote April Fool's and Pesach, Easter on its wayI receive the doctor's note:I have Barrett's Esophagus todayI don't believe I know the manI really cannot say If he has lost a body partWe're all careless in our wayI can't imagine a reason why I'd stoop to scam used organsAnd if I were to finger fleshGod knows I'm no esopha-guyAdmiring a heart or lung Another stomach could be funA kidney for the one I lost I'd carefully consider cost I offered up a bladder galled And woke to find a world appalled My body gets up to such tricksI'm an open book -- with no appendix April, I'm not fooling here My body's growing hollowBut when I'm charged with organ theftIt's more than I can swallow.


 







4.2.18  I See You, Croci, You See Me
i.
I see you peeping up there from a shelter of old leaves You really bring some color when and where we need it most You really are a hero, a guest who blossoms into host the little guy who lives to try   and when they throw the garbage lid upon your tiny yellow id you flatten out like Hamlet did and your rating sinks to zero You're an emblem of our time A flag to welcome spring In a day or two you reach your prime And when your glory turns to dust It really is a crime.
ii. I see you peering down at me You boot-steps almost nearing me I wish you would be fearing me But I just don't have the time You think I'm just a show-off a sunny flash for your delight But I have my own agenda And I close up every night There's a plan for my expansion Seed money in the bank And if some day your garden fills with a host of golden daffodils You won't have me to thank But I lead the way for those to come, light the pathway to the sun So April boots must watch their step For though the season seems to creep It's we who make it run.

[for more about National Poetry Writing Month see http://www.napowrimo.net/2018/04/    ]