This is a raw piece of poetry that came from a workshop exercise today. First we were asked to come up with a list of words of phrases from our earliest memories, then we were told to organize the phrases and flesh it out to make it a poem.
clothesline
from Manhattan Beach
toddling days
where i ate cool crumbled dirt beneath the teal stairsto stucco row
in our Ford Ranch Wagon
vinyl bench seats in cowboy theme –
lassos and steer horns and wagon wheels –
a place with a garage
the smell of stale motor oil and bleach
on smooth concrete floorssandbox beneath the clothesline
lines of crust where the laundry drippedthe time of day measured
by the smell of kitchens:
pot beans in the morning
meat sauce in the afternoon
sausage and onions in the eveningnight time
the sweet smell of slowly melting Yogi Bear plastic
nightlight
Poetry Friday is over at Under the Covers this week.
This is just an avalanche of wonderful, tactile images. The smells and textures and sights just about step off the monitor and walk around on my desk. Thanks for sharing this.
This is just wonderful. Love the time of day measured by the smell of kitchens, and the melting Yogi Bear plastic nightlight.
What a rich well you are drawing from! I love the direct sensation in these images.
I’m going to sound like a copycat, but the two images Jama mentions are my favorites, too. I really feel like I could be there.