I'm watching Animal Planet show on the frog crisis. More than third of frog species are endangered. A fungus is killing them.

I wrote three raunchy poem in writing group today. I'm not a raunchy poet, but that was the prompt we were given. I'm an obedient poet (at times) so I obeyed.

This is one poem I wrote tonight.

Leslea Newman,
whom I admire
in that 13 year old girl poet who just discovered self kind of way
that any 32 year old woman who fancies herself to be a poet in her own right
ought to have gotten over long ago;
sentenced us- we six gathered to write on the third Thursday of the month
to attempt to craft raunch in the least sexy abode of the library.

Due to scheduling snafu,
our regular room was occupied by a girl scout meeting;
the library's "friends" were holding their own monthly gathering
in the second room we were sent to.
Embarrassed librarian, perhaps herself guilty of scheduling errors,
says we are welcome to write in the staff room until other group departed
.
In October, at local poets gathering
our muses over eager ears fixated
when poet laureate told us that she heard that
we were, in fact, a group that welcomed
a bit of raunch.

Categories: poem [t], writing [t]

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