Poetry With Hart

Characters:

Melody = Hippe Priestess Vibes

Cc = Bizagoth

Iggy = Mary Poppins Punk

Yow = Cryptid good boy

*

Setting: Kitchen (I swear there’s other rooms in the house, I just really like this, so we’re going with it. Glad you agree, let’s go!)

*

Melody walks in carrying the mail, Iggy is sitting on the kitchen counter eating cold fried chicken straight from the box, Cc sits at the kitchen table idly scowling/scrolling at the news while absentmindedly petting Yow who’s head is in her lap drooling chicken grease everywhere

—

Cc: You know that chicken is gunna give us a stomachache later right?

Iggy: I know.

Cc: And you continue eating it anyway.

Iggy: Yup.

Cc: Why? We’ve been pescatarian for years.

Iggy: I know but it’s so good, sometimes I just get this craving ya know. Besides,  you gave some to Yow.

Cc: Yes but he’s a dog and besides… he earned it.

Iggy: Oh?

Melody: *interupting to put it on the counter next to Iggy* Mail is here.

Iggy: Oh rock the fuck on, let’s go bitches!

*She drops the chicken, half heartedly wipes her hands off and tears into the mail*

Cc: Anything good or just junk? No looking at vacation packages. We can’t afford one right now.

Iggy: *grumbles and then* Oh here’s a good one. A postcard from a penpal with a question.

Melody: Yes please. Read that one.

Iggy: “How about a meta poem about your preferred process in writing poems.”

Cc: I mean, if she’s talking to you, it’s probably how you just throw darts at the universe and hope it lands somewhere interesting.

Iggy: Facts right. But no, they go on to specify, “your process once you settled on an idea. A favourite location you write at, music you play, something to drink, pen and paper or keyboard, draft poetry immediately or list points and let them simmer…”

Cc: Oh fuck. That’s a good question.  And they want it in the form of a poem?

Iggy: *Immitating CC* Presumably that’s the whole point of it, indubitably.

Cc: *sarcastic glare* Charmed I’m sure. So who should go first?

Melody: Oh I got one!

Cc: Let’s hear it.

Melody: *opens a pocket sized poetry book, pretty simplistic with leather binding and opens it to read*

Ink spills on soft page

birds singing the background blues

the moment captured,

I am enraptured

by the muses, words flowing

like love, nectar wine.

Cc: Not bad.

Iggy: 10 outta 10, wud bang.

Cc: *insert eye roll here* I’ll go next, let me pull it up here.

Iggy: Not one of your long ones, please. We haven’t got all day.

Cc: *ignoring her, starts in*

There is a story I must tell

Form I remember well

Dancing from fingertips

Typing memory-form into quips

Handwriting doesn’t keep up

As I sip from my coffee cup

Research as needed fast,

Write a narrative,  make it last

Lists on lists on lists

You, more or less, get the jist.

Most of all, I write because I must

Before my world turns to dust.

Melody: You chose couplets. Im surprised. Not your usual mode to rhyme.

Cc: I can branch out. I have layers…

Iggy: *cough cough* Ogres are like onions*

Cc: *ignoring Iggy* We have a sonnet we’re commissioned to write. Ive gotta take the rust off someday. Plus, we have that wormholes thing next, I’m still researching it. It’ll be in a stable state when I’m thru with it.

Melody: Oh, I’d like to help with that one. Can I please?

Cc: How? It’s a bit heady.

Melody: We can blend it together. 

Cc: It’ll be at least amusing to see you try…

Iggy: Me next… *practically catapulting off the counter with a chicken bone in her hand to use it to write on the fridge with*

I like big Buts and I cannot lie

You other mothers can’t deny

When a brother walks in with

And an itty bitty heart

A big ampersand in your face

You start to get…

Cc: Stop. No parodies. That’s not even one of your good ones either. You’re better than that. Try again.

Iggy: *nods, looks at her a moment. Stares at Yow, then pulls a dry erase marker out to write on the fridge*

I will tear apart

All tyranny with my teeth

Write an epitaph

With their bloody bones

Immortalize freedom’s heart

In stone, step aside

Or stand beside me.

It’s time to raise the banner

Take our future back.

Before it’s taken

away

*Iggy tosses the marker, leaves a kitchen towel next to the fridge to wash it off, and exits stage left*