It’s Day 27 of National Poetry Month and for today’s prompt I created a veritable word casserole, heavily peppered with literary devices to accentuate an “anapodoton “poem, a term this writer had to look up. (You deserve a huge gold star if you didn’t!)
As Robert Brewer of Writers Digest explains:
“An anapodoton is an unfinished phrase that a person can fill in the blanks, phrases like “When in Rome,” “If life gives you lemons,” “Speak of the devil,” and “Where there is a will.” For many (if not all) of these, you probably filled in the second half of the phrase, because you know it so well.”
For my stab at an anapodoton poem, I chose “when the cat’s away.” I hope you enjoy my fun little word play!
When the cat’s away
the mischievous mice have a mighty mirthful time lazing about,
pretending to be the “big cat “him/ her/ themselves.
They grandiosely stretch and warm their pudgy little mice bellies
in the brightness of sunlight beaming through the bay window,
and when fully satiated by that,
they rise slowly on their ten teeny tiptoes and putting on their best aloof faces, practice their slinking strides,
laughing hysterically and applauding attempts to be feline-ish
before engaging in the “Don’t Blink” game,
as they stare into the depths of each other’s protruding eyes,
demonstrating their best catitude,
finally rolling raucously onto the pompous predator’s bed
with the sole intention of slathering it with their mice-ness
and squeak-roaring in mice-mob ecstasy at the thought of
driving said surly cat crazy
with the mystery of what in the name of holy catnip happened,
when those measly miniature murines came out to play.
CRR
4-27-23
This Pedestrian Life 