Attempt the First: Screw around with proverbs.
When the going gets tough, the tough unravel. Undress. I'll cut off
my own skin just to show I'll
do it first. My knife is mightier than my pen. I stay in a stone house
throwing glasses out windows
just for the sound. Diamonds are for never. Better never than early.
I invite my birds of a feather to dinner, but go to bed
with my enemies, holding them close and closer. Make them omelets
for breakfast without breaking any eggs, all my eggs
in one basket, counting chicks, then scrub up:
cleanliness is my key to damnation. I'll fix anything not broke.
There's no time like the past to do it right, by myself.
Attempt the second: Take the final word from each line in the previous poem, make them the first word of each line in a new poem.
Off with my dread instead.
I'll find you, I'll creep from house to
House, say I won't, peeping in
Windows, mail slots, chimneys, keyholes,
Early in the morning, early enough you're still in
Bed. Without me, of course. Cold enough for
Omelets in the morning, scramble the
Eggs like your thoughts, wishing for a proper punch-
Up, get too drunk at the evening, fall off the barstool,
Broke as a whole stand-up act.
Myself, I'll just lean back and laugh.
Attempt the third: Take the final letter from each line in the previous poem, make them the first letters of each line in a new poem.
Sin can I