poetry or die

Tonight we had a joint birthday par-tay for Sarah and me. We felt the best way to celebrate the big 26 was with a celebration Sarah titled "Poetry or Die." We came dressed up as Beatniks/Sprockets, and Doug was able to wear not only one of my sweaters, but also a pair of my pants... I don't want to talk about it. Then we all wrote a bunch of nouns on slips of paper, threw them in a bowl, and pulled them out to get topics for different types of poems. We scored some great ones, like a haiku about "lip kisses" and a sonnet about "electricians," "cavity," "applesauce," "Assistant to the Regional Manager," and something else.

We snapped when the poems were good, and beat on the drums (Sarah's tupperware) when we were feeling the groove. It was good times.

Here's my tanka poem (a Japanese poem with 5-7-5-7-7 syllables on each line) using the words "possum" and "Reno":
Give me a possum
Preferably in Reno
So I can handle
Turning age twenty-six and
My husband wearing my pants.