I have fallen so far behind on my poem a day schedule that I’m likely to end up with something more like a “National Poetry Writing Week and A Half.” But I’m promising myself that I will step it up and get back on the horse: more mixed metaphors anyone?
So I go back to the prompt for, what, Day 7, a day I did actually write a mental poem based on the daily prompt, if 3 words can be considered a poem. The prompt was to write a love poem to an inanimate object. I rejected the idea–of course, because rejecting ideas is so much easier than letting them challenge one.
But perhaps Stephen Fry was right on the “bet you can’t watch just one” quiz show, QI, when he said that science has shown that people make the best decisions and think the fastest when they are most desperate to take a whiz. Yes, I was heading into the bathroom at a rather tidy pace when the “love poem to an inanimate object” came to me. With my apologies to scientists everywhere for calling this “fast thinking,” the love poem whose title far outweighs its contents:
To My Greatest Love, Welcoming Me At The Door Each Evening