Carrots in the Typewriter
A poem about creativity
I spread carrots in the typewriter,
Hear them crunch and grind.
Grease is my fave salad dressing,
A good lubricant for the mind.
A tangerine is my baseball
Let me come and swing for fences
With bats made of pasta clumps,
Tortellini’s quite the densest.
Zucchini is a blessing too
When lining the swimming pool,
Tastes of the world are my dentures.
Ice cream paper makes me drool.
My pencils, made of protein dust,
Dictate a fugue of pleasure.
Bring out the gallon jugs of spice
To pour out the perfect measure.
A glass of wine to top things off
Gets spilled upside my head
Where shampoo’s gentle touch
Shall eliminate the dead.
I paste Cheez-its to a computer screen,
The orange and green, they clash.
As if the joy came easily
In the form of meathead cash.
Asian oils, Russian flour
Czechoslovakian mixture
The camel’s milk and robin’s egg
Paint a distinctly African picture.
I stretch sausages to utter lengths
Of written power unseen,
The pen glides through scrolls of mince,
And pierces jelly beans.
Thoughts are gray and so are brains,
I don’t suggest you eat them.
But when I spin my linguistic quilt
I’ll always chew a neat hem.
There’s not a thing to be afraid of.
Go, and chomp anew.
I spread carrots in my typewriter,
And suggest that you do too.
About the Creator
Daniel J. Heck
Poet, journaler, short fiction composer, interactive story writer, board game designer. I believe in the power of multiple creative voices within one person, and of variety as the spice of life!
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Comments (2)
Lol, this was very whimsical and fun! Loved your poem!
Great poem! Well written!