A total nonsense poem that really not worth reading. I’m just playing, and waiting for the chicken to finish roasting….

Truffle notes and tender buttons,
fractured water, breaking
names with nouns, repeating
sounds so represental,
repeater, exit the
into a new line;
lineal strokes diluted by linear
thoughts – very fine if red’s
for a valentine. Tine to fork,
forked and forked over. A
dozen cocktails, if you please.
Shoot me, stuff me;  I’m
committing Steinicide.
note: This is the result of a week-long torturous journey through  Gerrrrrrr-trude Stein’s poetry.

Author: Misky

‘Misky’ lives in the UK surrounded by flowers, freshly baked bread, and always keeps dog biscuits in her pocket for her blind Springer Spaniel. She never buys clothing without pockets. Her work is widely published.

4 thoughts on “Steinicide”

  1. Misky, “nonsense” poems are my favorite kind. This is wonderful, and has started my morning with a smile. I especially love:
    names with nouns, repeating

    Brilliant. So much gorgeous brilliance comes from nonsense. Love it.

  2. Yep, you’ve caught it. (was your intention to show how utterly flamboyant she was by inserting the Baroness Elsa von Freytag Loringhoven, “A Dozen Cocktails–Please” into the mix?) Two strange broads, eh?

    1. Very strange indeed, particularly the Baroness. Did you read Williams’s encounter with her? Eeeegads. I also used Dadaism to write this. I was looking at the Radio Times magazine.

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