Hide out

For today’s prompt, write a hide out poem. When I was a kid, we’d build “hide outs,” I guess from our parents or other kids. An assortment of criminals (fictionalized and real) have their hide outs. But maybe there are other hide outs, like a “man cave,” “she shed,” or the local pub. Heck, maybe it’s the library. Give it a thought, and I’m sure you’ll find the right hide out poem for you.

My process for writing these:

  1. Give the Muse something to work with. Create a mind-map, write some free-form lines, or make lists.
  2. Give the Muse some space and time to work on it. I took a walk to Starbucks, sat and read, sat and watched.
    1. I listened to Dragonette’s (whom I have previously written aboutRun, Run, Run, and decided maybe I could write a song called Hide, Hide, Hide.
    2. The Cape Breton Screaming Eagles’ coaching staff sat next to me in the big, comfy chairs and were pouring over game film. They are playing our Sea Dogs in the QMJHL playoffs, and there is a game tonight.
    3. I read some of Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle.
    4. I saw nobody I knew.
  3. I wrote poem number one and posted it.
  4. I came home and made a hamburger curry and took a nap while watching The Masters on TSN.
  5. While making a pot of smooth Malabar coffee, I opened Anne Compton’s asking questions indoors and out as I watched CNN’s coverage of the capture of the man in the hat bomber in Belgium, sort of.
  6. I opened the book randomly to page 27, read her poem Summer Storm, felt like insignificant dog shit, and sighed.
  7. I then sat with my coffee and hacked out poem number two. I should have edited it.

Poem Number One

You need somewhere to hide

All alone
They’re looking for someone
They’re looking for you
Lower your head, tighten your lips
Tell me, what did you do?

You need somewhere to hide

There’s no way to save your ass
All you can do is, find greener grass
Hope the forget, about you
Pray your prayers come true

You need somewhere to hide

It’s better to make restitution
It’s better to make a contribution, to reconciliation
Push your differences aside
But for now

You need somewhere to hide

Poem Number Two

The Man In The Hat

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You walked into the world subliminally and made a sublime exit
The children played at your feet, urban camouflage
and hope in a hopeless land, a world without future
You watched them press their game over buttons, you stood and watched
Their screens blanked and the news networks’ lit up, red, white, and blue

We found you, as we knew we would
Only Jimmy Hoffa can hide from the government, and we knew you weren’t with him
You wouldn’t survive, in a real union
Though your clothes changed, and your hair colored, and your habits reformed
Signals were still sent
We are experts in disguise, experts in driving men under
and bringing them in from the cold
Not even your innocent children can hide from our long arms
From our green money

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