The exercise:
Write a four line poem about something that has been: squeezed.
We had a really good market today, despite the extra work involved. The setup and take down weren't actually the worst part though - it was having to go down two or three stalls to find enough space every time I needed to get out from behind our table in order to replenish fruit crates at the front of our stall.
Normally that's just a matter of stepping around our own table, which takes about ten seconds. But we were all so tight together today that it was much more of a process, especially when the crowds were thick.
Anyway. We moved a lot of fruit and didn't bring much produce back home, so I'm not in much of a position to complain.
Mine:
We're smushed in tight,
There's barely room to breathe;
To be honest?
I just really want to leave.
4 comments:
That does sound like a tight fit! Still, I bet you weren't actually wishing people would stop buying things so you didn't have to keep putting more product out :) And you say that you sold almost everything – that's got to a result!
Although your poem suggests that you may have been wishing they'd buy more and faster :-D
Squeezed
The waitress hands me a bottle
And says "Just give it a squeeze"
But the bottle is Orange Bitters
And my sandwich order is cheese...
Crying, she said "my doll"
While playing she threw it under her bed
Trying to squeeze in under that tiny bed
I loved to see that sweet little smile when I got it
Met a boy… he’s my main squeeze
We had some kids, I squeezed out 3
No more hugs, I only squeeze
Wants a 4th and is putting on the squeeze, Oh please!
Greg - no, certainly not. I was just wishing I could throw peaches and nectarines accurately and gently enough that I didn't have to go around :P
Ew, those two do not go together at all. I reckon you need a new waitress!
Abhi - I like that the awkward effort had a satisfying reward :)
Mo - haha, love it. Great fun to read aloud too :)
Post a Comment