First Five Fragments for Friday

Your weekly offering of writing/art prompts.

This week, I offer lines from the middle of poems I’ve stumbled across in Postmodern American Poetry: A Norton Anthology, edited by Paul Hoover (second edition, 2013).  Yes, that’s right, the middle because first lines as prompts have been done to death. Further citation information for poems in which these lines appear is given below.

Enjoy.

1. She sips the taste of the mountain

2. She electrocuted herself with her own bathwater

3. I was fluent in salamander

4. Sliced. Time folds in on itself: bed to couch.

5. the poets come out of the crevices to look at each other

1. The Butterfly by Michael McClure, p. 211; 2. The Book of Percival by Jack Spicer, p. 101; 3. Autographeme by Elizabeth Willis, p. 715; 4. After I Was Dead by Laura Mullen, p. 651-652; 5. Moonscape with Earthlings by Nada Gordon and Gary Sullivan, p. 749-753.

     

Advertisements

8 comments

  1. Each of these snippets prompts thoughts: the mountains I've never seen; warnings about electricity and water not mixing; salamanders in the dirt-floored cellar of my youth; my plaid hide-a-bed couch of years ago; and, finally, yes, I suppose we poets do abide in crevices of sorts and wonder about each other.

    Like


Comments are closed.