Improv of "The Artist as Lefthander"

I was intrigued by the line "Each morning, thinking of you." When I thought about that line and what it could be related to...

Each morning, thinking of you,
I curl deeper into the blankets, willing myself
to mesh back with the world of down and sheepskin. 
Where alarms and front page shootings evaporate,
while lattes and gas are cheap.

Each morning, thinking of you,
I flop to the floor, crawling blearily to the 
shower, where the hot steam and suds clear
the dirt and gook from my fingernails,
final remnants of the day before.

Each morning, thinking of you,
I check, forty times forty, the clock
wishing for the moment I can join 
you again.

Improv of "Broadway"

I loved the "electric stars" phrase from this piece and also the way that the poet set up the piece itself.

         Electric stars light the way for
               four hundred and twenty thousand.
                      They don't see the beauty of it

         all, blinking new messages of
               entertainment and hope
                       that for a moment, at least

         we forget the terrible and drift
               into the man made marvelous
                       night sky, beckoning with each timed twinkle.

Improv of "Blood"

I loved the idea of "true Arabs know." I got to thinking about me and what part of my life only some people would know...being a Chicagoan...

"A true Chicagoan knows you have to take the bus to get anywhere near
22nd and California."
someone said to me yesterday- 
I'm only from the suburbs, not the shore of Lake Michigan.
I have to take the train to the Tower, not a cab or four minute walk.
Coke and Pepsi are distinctly different-
but I prefer the former.
Bears and Cubs for life, but
the White Sox don't frost my snow loving heart.
Dragging out vowels and adding l's sneak into my pronunciations-
spelling both bolth-
yet I've sucked in breath
at the utterance of y'all...
with a drawl.

Improv of "To Market"

I purely loved the first line: "All the long way from Jamaica."

All the long way from Jamaica
my parents come to bring me better life.
Life where I run fast through cotton fields of Kentucky,
I learn English from neighbor woman Sally Mae,
billowing gray hair and cat eyed glasses, playing crossword
in the splintering rocking chair by her mason glass of sweet tea
I almost break with my rock toy.
Night means we watch the television set for black and white
western shows, or lay in the nearly dewed grass
counting stars twinkling brighter than the lantern
at the end of the road.

Improv of "A Story"

The best part of this piece was the phrase "pure roach anguish." I have never heard anything like this combination of words before and just had to swipe it!

Pure roach anguish burst free from the iron gate of teeth,
soaring into the pale blue sky and drifted among cumulus clouds. Traveling slowly,
searching for a touch down place, a snow capped mountain top where no one bothered
to handcuff her to the bedpost. If she went outside, hypothermia would chew her limbs to ash,
but at least she walks without broken knees in the dirt carpeted cabin.

Improv of "Dead Horse"

The best part of this poem was the one line of dialogue. The whole poem is one scene involving a dead horse and then the father utters one short, gut punching line. "Happens." The death of the horse just happens...what else could just "happen?"

It had to have been about four,
sun burning pavement just under the pear tree,
when the window shattered with the burnt sienna
from the brick pile outside, meant for the in progress pizza
oven made for my mother.
When my dad pulled up, back from the bank,
discovering glass shards among the wool of the welcome
mat, 
my father said: "happens."
I suppose it does-when your father,
the ex- con, returns from Rikers Island

Improv of "Robin Red Breast"

I loved the line "tunneling out their wits." It seemed like such a strong, descriptive line, and I couldn't help but snag it.

Watching the haze billow
east to me, I two stepped left,
out of the fog.
The skinny jeans with sweatervests
blow smoke rings at each other,
as they inhale stupidity; tunneling out
their wits and cementing in cancer.