by Emily Rand
In my mind is a poem, but its shape is like slime.
Dripping, slipping, oozing out of reach each time.
I know it, I feel it, there’s something more there.
I struggle to write the sentiments which I wish to share.
Now, anxiously, I put pencil to paper and spiral,
This poem started as slime, but now it’s gone viral.
Mucus-thoughts reproduce themselves in a frenzied rage
As each iteration wants to be its own page.
Each thought wants its moment, a poem, a song
I can’t do that while deadlines rush me further along.
To quell the scum-like barrage of thoughts in my head
I’ve wrote them all out to harass you instead.
Author: Emily Rand
“Slime Poem” was inspired by a prompt in my beginning poetry class. I was getting frustrated because we were supposed to write “about poetry.” I eventually settled on letting the concept of writer’s block manifest as a slimy, contagious mess—little did I know we’d be canceling half of my final semester due to a similar contagious mess.