Friday, February 10

I love poems that don't rhyme

I love the disjointed, the little shock, the yuck/yum.  It makes me smile when things are not quite right, slightly off to one side, so unmistakably wrong, so unpalatable that they are delish. I like fluro yellow next to beige, strange colour upsets, a beautiful discord, a slipped finger, a wrong note played. I love the imperfect and the lop-sided, the dropped and the smudged, the rained on and the eye-sore.

A teacher once referred to me as "disjointed", my mother panicked but I smiled a deep smile, brushed my ponytail aside and wore it with pride.

I love poems that don't rhyme.

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