Tuesday, July 22, 2008

poem of the day 07.22.08

children’s stories by hemingway

and then the seven year-old
came over to my desk.
what are you doing? she asked.
nothing, i answered, even though
i was sitting there thinking how bad
most other writers are.
i have to write a story using
my spelling words, she said.
what are the words?
can you help me?
yes, i said. we’ll do it like hemingway.
you’re crazy.
yes, and here is the first line.
she grabbed a pencil.
it was daytime.
a butterfly was in the sky.
i was in the park with my grandparent.
we were having breakfast.
it was a cupcake.
how’s that? i asked.
the seven year-old wrinkled
her brow.
that’s a story?
no, that’s a good story.
it’s solid.
like hemingway would do it.
i don’t think my teacher knows
hemingway, she said.
then your teacher should hang it
up, i said.
then the seven year-old grabbed
her math book.
now, we have to do my math, she said.
okay, i answered.
who’re we going to do my math like?
you ever heard of pathagorous, kid?

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