Saturday June 13th, 2015

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about: speed.

The strawberries were sold by 8:40 (I think. I was too busy to notice the exact time).

All but one of the raspberry pints were gone by mid-morning (that last one hung out for a long, long time by itself. I was feeling rather bad for it until someone finally came along and rescued it).

I have no idea when the last Moroccan mint plant sold (I don't think I personally sold any of the five we brought).

The last bag of snow peas... mid-morning maybe? Hard to say (again, too busy with cherries to notice the time).

The last three pounds of cherries sat on the table for probably twenty minutes. Then a guy came along and bought all of them - marking their sellout point at 12:40.

So for the last twenty minutes of the market we were down to one table (from the three we started with), selling nothing but my cards and prints.

That was a good market.


Faster, faster, zoom, zoom,
That's another one gone!
We're all sold out so soon?
It isn't even dawn!


Greg said...

Well, maybe not quite as fast as I thought you'd sell everything, but pretty fast anyway! I look forward to the day you announce that your cards and prints were the first things to sell out though. And your poem summarises the experience rather well I'd say!

Take it to the limit one more time
The singer on the radio knows my mind,
The police can hear me coming, their engines are all humming,
'Cos speeding in this state is still a crime.

Marc said...

Greg - yeah, my cards and prints selling out first would be quite the treat (for me). Maybe if we bring 50 crates of cherries and only, like, ten of my cards? :P

I like the scene your poem paints for us. Your narrator seems undeterred by the waiting police and a part of me admires that. In a fictional character, at least :)