The Ballad of Stinky Jean

You smell like feet for a moment,

But I’ll be sweet for a moment.

And I just won’t tell you

Because I think that it’s polite.

.

You must have cheese stuffed in your ears

Or skunk juice dripping from your tears

Because I just can’t stand

The smell that is around you.

.

I’ll burn some sage for an hour.

I’ll ask if you want to take a shower.

But even if you ask,

I just won’t tell the truth.

.

Do you see the pain in my lying eyes?

Does my averted nose take you by surprise?

Did you ever think

That I would do something to hurt you?

.

You smell like feet for a moment,

But I’ll be sweet for a moment.

And I just won’t tell you

Because I think that it’s polite.

Eleven Through Fifteen and Backwards—Free Verse

Out off how

What was until just

Want this more got do because

Who through so see life his

Would where leg know into him back about

***

I created this poem after feeding many of my poems into a word frequency counter. It listed the words I used by the amount of times I used them and in alphabetical order. You can find the word frequency counter I used here: http://www.writewords.org.uk/word_count.asp

Afternoon Amazon—Free Verse

Afternoon Amazon alive and able

Armed with arched armpits

Ample with apple argument

Affording of advice and accusing of activity

Awash in awkward autumn arrows and ashamed

***

I created this poem after feeding many of my poems into a word frequency counter. It listed the words I used by the amount of times I used them and in alphabetical order. So I went to the end of the list and chose from the words that started with the letter ‘A’ that I only used once. This poem ends up as both the kind of thing you would expect me to write and using words I infrequently use. You can find the word frequency counter I used here: http://www.writewords.org.uk/word_count.asp

Funnel Cake and a Midnight Movie at the Haunted Firehouse—Wea’ve Written Weekly

In the dark and October chill of night

In line for the haunted house

Watching Halloween on a firehouse wall

When you turn to see Michael Meyers

Standing silently in line behind you

Machete hanging loosely in one hand

White featureless face and hollow eyes

And you turn to face the dark

Staring into the night

Hoping if you see the same thing he does

He will not notice you’re there

And whispering to your daddy that you didn’t see

What you both know you saw.

***

I wrote this poem in response to “A Sonnet about Something or Other” by Sunra Rainz. You can read this poem on the Skeptic’s Kaddish page here: https://skepticskaddish.com/2022/10/19/w3-prompt-25-weave-written-weekly/