Dr. Louis Pasternak Skullstench: Stealth Poet
Poetry Assignment #15: Make-Up-a-Word Poem
My Mom, the Piandroid
When my mother plays piano
the tendons in her hand jump up and down
practically burst through her skin
like the wires of the piano
snuck out of their wooden coffin
the night before
to play inside a real person
My dad is definitely grosser than my mom in real life, but somehow gross poems about her are just grosser. Huh.
Louis, I believe it’s the surprise factor of pairing mothers and grossness. Fathers are expected to be a little more gross (true or not). Mothers are not. So it’s unexpected and (according to some people) funny when mothers are really gross. I still prefer poems that explore the majesty of our beautiful world.
Talent Show Possibility: I am good at armpit music.
Miss S said no.
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Michelle at Today’s Little Ditty has the Poetry Friday Roundup today! Enjoy:>)
12 Responses
Fun, Laura! I think Louis might be onto something here. I like the tendons as piano wires. Glad Miss S. nixed the armpit music though.
Aw, c’mon, who doesn’t love a little armpit music!?
I’m quite sure that a lot of students will love these poems, especially ten year olds!
Thanks, Linda–I have to figure out how to get the poems TO the 10yos…I’m working on it:>)
For some reason I love thinking of those tendons as piano wires! Also, the title of the poem is perfect. Thanks for sharing!
Thanks, Molly. I have the grossest hands, and I used to freak my kids out by making all the tendons move up and down like piano wires. The small joys of motherhood;>)
I know kids would LOVE these putrid poems! When I taught elementary school, I remember loving anything considered gross. I’m enjoying them too!
Thanks, Linda–I appreciate it!
Moms are sure gross. I should know. LOL
Surely not YOU!
Mu-ah-ha-ha!
I’ve got piano wires and blue worms (veins)!!