April is National Poetry Month and many writers around the world are attempting to write a poem a day, 30 poems in a month. As with NaNoWriMo, this month is more about quantity than quality, a shotgun approach to writing. April is a learning month for me. I am feeling more and more comfortable with my prose voice, but my poetry voice is still mostly a mystery to me. I plan to write at least 30 poems, and I also plan on reading at least one poetry craft book, “The Poet’s Companion” by Addonizio and Laux. I will likely open other craft books too. I also plan on reading quite  a bit of poetry, but I have no specific plan.

I follow prompts provided by Robert Brewer at Poetic Asides.

For today’s prompt, write a foolish poem. It’s April Fool’s Day, after all. Let’s loosen up today with a poem in which we’re fools, others are fools, or there’s some kind of prank or tomfoolery happening. Fool around with it a while.

I told myself I didn’t really want to write about American politics this month, but I guess that was a lie. Is there anything more foolish in the world right now than the American election cycle? Two years and billions of dollars of discussion, debate, and analysis and all they can come up with is nonsense? While my poem is clearly aimed at the GOP, I am not by any means a fan of the other camp. It’s just the easier target. And while the dominant fool might be Trump, I also refer to initiatives proposed by Cruz and Huckabee. I will look for other Tom-foolery topics later today, but for now, here’s my attempt:

And The World Will Be A Better Place

We’re going to build a nation, once again
A bigger, better, braver nation
Even the greatest nation needs to clean house
Now and then

We’re going to build a wall, to keep them out
We’re going to boost our economy, encourage trade, and promote peace
By restricting integration, multiculturalism, and globalization
Oh they’ll pay for it

We’re going to build a church, a National Church
A church protected, a seat for everyone, with the cheapest donations
Praise the President for he will wear the robes
The directive to believe entrenched

We’re going to build an army, to force world peace
Tanks against sickles, nuclear weapons for all, vaginas guarded by guns
No fool will shoot up the world when all nations are ready to respond
And the world will be a better place


Day 1, poem number 2

Hotrod Lincoln

They were run over by a Lincoln, from behind, diagonally
Four straight thinkers, four pretentious immortals
Green flashing lights and solid red hands ignored
Too externally confident, internally insecure
Forever unresolved

High school teaches numbers and words
Students learn old-world lessons, not modern practicalities
The science of motion isn’t for two more years, they’ll never see
Their retinal biology not fully realized, by the hoary and old
Not all muscles and minds are testosterone-driven
A sixteen-year old’s life is too intense, but not rich enough to satisfy

The old man was sorry, for the boys
Would never learn street smarts