“Of Frogs and Fishing”
Here are three poems I wrote in response to photo prompts for F2k class at Writers Village University. Writing a poem inspired by a photograph is harder than you think!
Of Frogs and Fishing
I’ve kissed a few frogs.
In the fourth grade,
warts on my hands
from kissing a boy,
no doubt,
his eyes bulging, croaking
hello in the halls.
The auto mechanic
who told me fish stories,
never kissed him.
Prince or pauper?
The newly divorced,
washed up on the beach,
flopping on the sand.
Yeah, I kissed him.
Plenty of fish in the sea,
or so they say.
The businessman who flashed
a fistful of credit cards,
enough for decent fishing gear.
I never kissed him.
Maybe it was the tin crown
that fooled me, the too shy
toad always just out of reach.
I kissed him.
Does that make me a princess
in a pink tutu, ever hopeful?
I’ve kissed
a few frogs.
Patriot
I believe in liberty,
justice, peace and plenty.
All that good shit.
The flag for which it stands.
And the Pursuit of Happiness.
You both get out of my way
before you get trampled.
And that guy, carrying that flag
on the beach, like it was yours alone…
and alone to bear.
These red, white and blue tennies
will leave marks on your back.
So get out of my way,
get out of my way.
Stacks
My bedroom,
shelves of notebooks
and books, both kinds,
hardback and paperback.
They could be the important
kind, history, philosophy,
politics, law.
Instead, fiction-old favorites
and new friends, cookbooks,
Astrology and travel books,
writing books.
The local branch
of the Westlund library.