April 17, Napowrimo 2026. Today we’re asked to respond to another poem. As the prompt’s poet responded to his own work, I thought I’d follow suit.
I purposefully wrote this poem to test readers, to make them uncomfortable in their expectation and assumption. I wanted to raise questions about what is socially acceptable in discourse and poetic subjects.
The first time I performed it my then partner said she didn’t know why she didn’t like it, but she didn’t want to hear it again. The host of the open-mic night I was speaking at told me later that he felt so on edge, so unsure where the poem was going that he was ready to stop my performance and was both glad and relieved at the denouement; I felt my work had been done.
Does my response do justice to my ambition? Does it stand alone as a poem? Who knows? The reader should be the only one to provide the answer.
He spirals words from within Kaa’s eyes.
Open invitations to be coiled in deceit.
Baited with titbits of unsavoury discomfort,
His scaled barbed lines set the snare.
Where is this leading me; surely not?
He asks questions of the questioner.
Questions that can’t be asked,
Questions as raw as a rusty cheese grater.
The host’s palms trickle sweat on his chrome safety bar as
He contracts around his own judgement,
Onboard the helter-skelter of social scruples.
Why is he doing this to me?
But who is the passenger?
And who is the driver?
Saved by the bell,
The host recoils into his safety shell.
Missives & Musings 