Riffin' and raffin' all night and all day--in this week, the week of week 2

I am thinking that this whole riffing off other more talented authors may eventually help. Keeping that in mind, I feel like I need to riff off of the amazing language I find in THE PROMISE by Sharon Olds; if you haven't gotten around to reading it yet--I have, thanks to Queenie--then you should. Since this is probably going to be long enough as it is, I will just tell you what part I plan to pluck. Ah, alliteration, I love you. Especially when you happen on accident. I have a boner for alliteration, as you may soon learn.

[1]
Think how we have floated together
eye to eye, nipple to nipple,
sex to sex, the halves of a creature
drifting up to the lip of matter
and over it—you know me from the bright, blood-
flecked delivery room, if a lion
had you in its jaws I would attack it, if the ropes binding your soul are your own wrists, I will cut them.

I don't know how you get any fucking better than this language--ironically, considering the profanity. It makes my insides roil in ecstasy, it does. I want to take it to bed with me and make babies. I would totally have this poem's babies. But, it's time to pull from this--we talked about verbs in class today. Wonder if I can do better? I'll cut out all the verbs and replace them, assuming they aren't linking verbs or important or something like that:

[2]

Think how we have throttled together

eye to eye, nipple to nipple,

sex to sex, the halves of a creature

tumbling up to the lip of matter

and over it--you see me from the bright, blood-

flecked delivery room, if a lion

had you in its jaws I would lick it, if the ropes binding your soul are your own wrists, I will preforate them.

That's wonderful, yeah? What have I added to this piece? Nothing. Nope, nothing at all. All I have done is just replace already strongly placed verbs. Well, that sucks, huh? No worries, I can fix this. Let's do something fun--all nouns must die. I'm just trying it. may keep a couple.

[3]

Think how we have throttled together

to, to, to tumbling up and over--see from the

flecked if had in would lick binding preforate.

I like this a lot more. See how crazy this is getting? CRAZY IS DELICIOUS!!! I am going to stick some of my own words into it now. Needs more building:

[4]

Think how we've throttled together

to skies laced with wings, to shores harboring tourists, to mountains spattered with whitewash

tumbling up and over--see from the flecked handle a glint of flashbulb. If I had a tongue, I would

lick the bindings, preforate an arm with a tooth, drink the dribble of rain sliding down a windshield. 

And NOW it is all mine. I am content. Mission complete.