Tuesday, May 27, 2008


I soar through the sky looking
for dark poetry. I feast on dark poetry books.
The defenseless books beg for mercy.
I might spare 1 or 2 but no more.
I can see nothing but books and blood.
If I were ever confronted
by a holy poetry book, I would die
and hopefully I would remake a memory
forever, but till then, I will forever feast
upon dark poetry.

I hold the paper on a tilt
so the black, bitter ink slides
into my mouth, my lips are black
like the woods at night, but as silent
as a shadow. My veins turn black
as I devour the ink
on the ghost white page.

Alejandro and Luke, 4th grade (2001-2002)

Written in a poetry residency at Columbus Elementary School, Chicago, IL after reading Billy Collin's "Eating Poetry"

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