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November 2, 2016

She's all that gold and glitter
At the mic. Sequined dress
Catches the moon just right.
She's all that gold and glitter,
And they throw tomatoes.
Spring for the exit now.
A woman has no place. Here.

This poem, #191 in the Poem Almost Everyday Project, strays from the writing the poem first thing aspect of my experiment because it was born out of a “poetry game” I play with students as a way into writing in poetic form. As a class, we determine the “rules” of the game: number of lines, syllables per line, the verb _______ in line ______ , the color _______ in line _______, a poetic device in line _______, and repeat lines _______ & _______.

These are the rules for this one:

  • 7 lines
  • 3 iambs per line
  • sprint in line 6
  • gold in line 1
  • a caesura in line 2
  • repeat lines 1 & 4
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