Cannibalistic Poetry (South AND Central)

Eating Poetry

BY MARK STRAND

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.

There is no happiness like mine.

I have been eating poetry.

The librarian does not believe what she sees.

Her eyes are sad

and she walks with her hands in her dress.

The poems are gone.

The light is dim.

The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.

Their eyeballs roll,

their blond legs burn like brush.

The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.

She does not understand.

When I get on my knees and lick her hand,

she screams.

I am a new man.

I snarl at her and bark.

I romp with joy in the bookish dark.

Cannibalize this blog. Cannibalize the words, verses and prose. Cut them up, eat them, and

make them your own. Make new from the old, original born from originality. 

Your assignment is to scour the blog, dissecting PHRASES (3+ words) from ANY post

(South OR Central), response, or reply, and assemble them in an aesthetic way to create a

new poem. Write the poem in a word document, save the document, and then copy/paste 

your cannibalized poem below. 

Happy eating.