Dear Readers,
Day Eleven of #Na/GloWriPoMo challenges the poet
to play around with the idea of overheard language. First, take a look at Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem “One Boy Told Me.” It’s delightfully quirky, and reads as a list, more or less, of things that she’s heard the boy of the title – her son, perhaps? – say. Now, write a poem that takes as its starting point something overheard that made you laugh, or something someone told you once that struck you as funny.
a mandapam
At a Big Fat Indian Wedding
Aunties in saris and uncles turban clad,
a toothless granny, cousins, Mom and Dad
gathered together on the flowery mandapam
to bless the newlyweds: a radiant bride and her shy groom.
"Was it Love?" asked the aunt with a golden bust.
"Na. Honestly Maami-- it was purely lust."
said the groom without blinking an eye.
I swear I heard a collective-connective sigh!
Of course, there was silence for a split
second. OMG! Dammit...
What guts. What clarity!
Hurrah! I say, for such confident morality.
I wish we had more of this on display
at cocktails and dinners and soirees of midday.
What fun to know what you really think
about life, her dress, this venue, your drink.
And if ever such a day shall dawn,
sign me up for every party on the lawn.
But, if you will continue to hide behind niceties and blah,
I'm telling you now, I won't come. Mwah!
****************************
My day started with a doctor's appointment (nothing serious) and a momentary loss of memory. I forgot where I'd parked my car in the parking garage next to the hospital. All's well that ends well. I found my car.
What a contrast the evening has been when the prompt unlocked a very old and funny memory. I enjoyed writing to the prompt.
