One of the things I’m enjoying most about participating in NaPoWriMo–in addition to generating a bunch of new poems–is crossing paths with so many other poets who are busily scurrying around the Web this month. One new e-acquaintance I’ve made is with Los Angeles poet Danielle Mitchell at Cult.Bomb, “a blast of contemporary letters assembled to emphasize literary news, discoveries, oddities, events, ideas, and damn fine writing.”
To get going on today’s poem, I followed one of her writing prompts, which borrows the structure of Richard Jackson’s list poem “Ten Things.” I had a lot of fun generating lines according to the specific, well thought-out steps Danielle Mitchell provides, and what I ended up with is either weirdly irreverent, or reverently weird. You decide:
Jesus loves me, this I’m pretty sure of.
Also, that he will mess me up if I cross him.
And after, peace me back down.
It’s true that he will bring to justice those responsible,
Maybe he came down here just to share the contents
of his vast pocket of lonely.
Maybe he wanted to wear a body unbearable in all
its knowing. Or maybe not,
since in April, even the fir trees raise their green
middle fingers to the sky.
It’s lucky I noticed this in time.
O, the beautiful miles sprint and wheel–
how many times can a universe spin
Meanwhile, the birch trees are knocking
each other up right here in the park.
That doesn’t matter to most, but my nose
The difference is something else.
The difference is that God is good,
and apparently he is doing this for my own.
Meanwhile, I wonder who let the money out.
Again and again, I marvel at the green.