Someone mentioned a challenge to write a weird poem. Now’s your chance to see what free-form thoughts ping-pong about in my mind, directly onto the keyboard. Yeah, I know, don’t forget your meds, Amy!

You Said It

If I had to choose a pickle
I’d take one from the right.

The left one too squidgy
The other one so tight.

And for my pleasure, whistle
the tune from “Auld Lang Syne.”

It’s sad lugubrious and nice
for crying in your brine.

A walk to watch the fat cats
crony at private points

as lizards crawl up pantlegs
and weasels gnaw their joints.

My hair is tightly binding
my scalp onto my head.

My thoughts are finely scattered
but my pencil’s out of lead.

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil