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I Stayed for the Strudel

This poem began with a writing challenge shared by the #PoetsofDoom. This link is to the original writing prompt post.

The writing prompt used a list of opening lines created by poet Brian Bilston. These lines belong to poems that were never actually written. The challenge was to choose one (or more) of the lines and complete the poem however you like.

Naturally, I decided to make things harder.

Instead of choosing just one line, I set out to use every single one of them and see if they could somehow live together inside a single poem. The result is a deliberately absurd gathering of voices, images, and interruptions.


The sky is darkening and yet the dove
after a long pause someone says this toward the window

her eyes were a question mark her mouth a semi-colon the room waits no one interrupts

That, my dear, is a diphthong
the professor taps the table

She loved his unfinished similes like
and there the thought simply ends

Our love is a broken oatcake
someone sets down their cup

Oi Oi!
that, my dear, is a diphthong
pass the strudel
(pass the strudel)

I am a bowl, chipped at the rim
the light above the table grows dim

In the vacuum between when and how, I squat
a few chairs shift

Oi Oi!
that, my dear, is a diphthong
pass the strudel
(pass the strudel)

Carter called again today, enquiring of his ladder
the news travels slowly around the room

For that was the winter we listened to Enya
someone hums without realizing

I remembered Newport Pagnell and wept
the kettle ticks once, then stops

Me and you in matching tank tops
the image arrives like a postcard from a drawer

I see you forgot the fabric softener again
the remark floats across the table

Please don’t do that, it’s disgusting
a voice from near the sink

Oi Oi!
that, my dear, is a diphthong
pass the strudel
(pass the strudel)

Today, we shall make strudel
someone clears space for dough

Whither the hair tongs? I have seen them not
drawers open, close

Also, I am bleeding profusely so please stay for a while
I mention it quietly
as if it were the least unusual thing here