2 Lines

I found a list of creative writing experiments. I did! And I found this one:

Take two lines you love from a poem that isn’t working. Write a new poem using one as the first line and the other as the last line. For an added perspective, try writing a second poem switching the two.

And then, I wrote a poem!

Ransacking the place in search of something sweet,

with the pillows turned upside down

and the blankets strewn here and there.

The bed was where the sweetness was,

and it’s where what’s left of it remains.

Crumbs, eating cake in bed

with the curtains hanging so straight.

The curtains make the room dark,

so we turn on a light in the hallway

to recolor the room, where the baby is sleeping.

The baby has sweetness, certainly,

and there are high points

and pointed things

and mountains with peaks

and breasts culminating in ripe, full nipples

and ocean waves, cresting

and polls measuring the popularity of politicians,

usually after a natural disaster.

Now. You’ve made your point,

and the woman you love is weeping in the bath,

quietly, but you can hear her anyway.

She’s alone in the house with you,

and tired.

So was it worth it, after all,

to have opened every door?