Pinterest Poem


I am not sure whether this is a cento or a found poem. I saw something crazy about lasagna on Pinterest and decided that my writer’s block merited strong measures and immediately stole it. Astute readers will also recognize lines from Ernest Hemingway, Emily Dickinson, and Patrick McDonnell’s cartoon Mutts.


Writers are desperate people, just the way we want

Them to grace the cover of Life Magazine: somewhere

Between torture and fun and blasting it out

With charges that will rock your readers’ world.

Ten rules fit women use to stay fit. One: Exercise

Hypergraphia, an overwhelming urge to write,

To truly rest up, to stop in at my favorite place

For drinks and comfort food that leaves me

Impressed without fail, in gender reversals

We need in our stories, a great example of why

This is absolutely true, in a slightly more mystical light.


I think it’s fairly common for writers to be afflicted

With two simultaneous yet contradictory delusions:

I can always live by my pen, until not writing

Makes you anxious. It’s the one and only thing

You have to offer. Well, that and nineteen lasagna recipes

That will change your life: so flavorful, everyone’s bound

To have seconds. Now, I’ll be unstoppable. Yahoo!

Yippee! Woo! Woo! To keep a love story from being

Boring, you need, when asked about romantic chemistry

On the show, to write about the things you wish

You had the courage to say. Only death can stop it.

The Mess of the Old School Writer

One of the problems with still kicking it old school and writing most of my poetry by hand is that when I have a huge project like this (50 poems in the last 33 or so days), my poor roommates cant even sit on the couch without finding bits of paper that say things like “Penelope, Embattled, Requests Aid” or “your heart lies on the road” or “like the fire spreading.” I guess I am thinking of this because of yesterday’s cento, the poem made from bits of other poems. I guess what I really feel like is a kind of bardic Pigpen: as I walk around I let fall a cloud of poems instead of a cloud of dust.