Feed the Troll 🧌
Poetry Collection No. 11, includes Target Audience and Breakfast of Champions
Hey friend,
This is my eleventh poetry collection. Thank you for reading!
I’m surprised by the disparate threads my brain pulled together. This collection was influenced by Olivia Gatwood, learning about algorithms and setting up a business,
, Jeremiah 17:9, and learning about strength training for women. Apparently the latter is good for hypermobility. Not that I’ve tried it. For better or for worse, it all seeps into my poems.Gatwood’s Ode to My Envy is one of my favourite poems of all time. The second poem is a nod to Gatwood, but not a patch on hers. Read Ode to My Envy! It’s so cool. I used to try and summarise the themes for each collection, but right now it’s beyond me. Ten gold stars if you can. ⭐️
Photo by James Lee on Unsplash
Target Audience
After Maria Giesbrecht
If boss babes and tech bros
make your throat close,
if internet therapists, who
sand screams into sanitised
squares, make you itch,
if Tom Cruise’s self-congratulatory
smile makes you scratch
if AI bots writing essays
make you claw your eyes
Come closer. This is for you.
Feed the Troll
Drip drip drip, I feed my
algorithm full of my deceit.
Drip, drip, drip, I feed my
algorithm: envy on repeat.
I shoot my vein
until it bursts green,
sweep my mane
of algae-hued hair
to hide my shame:
green-glittered eyes.
I shift the blame
to the little squares.
Drip drip drip, I feed my
algorithm full of my deceit.
Drip, drip, drip, I feed my
algorithm: envy on repeat.
Breakfast of Champions
For breakfast, I feed my poem
protein: eggs, psalms, and Spurgeon.
I don’t want her to get hungry,
because she needs to lift heavy things.
My poem can’t crash mid-morning,
seeking sugar: 5 Ways to Sleep Better.10 Ways to Cut Sugar. 15 Ways You’re
Not a Real Writer (Click to Read More!)
For lunch, I feed my poem protein:
quiet, delight, nature and nap.
My poem wants to be productive,
but she needs to lift heavy things.
My poem can’t crush cardio, shred,
cut, slay, or dominate. My poem
doesn’t need to run. She needs to rest,
because she needs to lift heavy things.
After dinner, in the quiet of the baby’s
room, she wields weighty things,
heavier than she did before: envy, grace,
restlessness, discontent, and glory.
My poem hasn’t arrived, but with reps,
rest, protein and grace, she will lift
heavier tomorrow than she did today.
My poem can lift heavy things.
Thanks again for reading. I don’t take it for granted. I love that I get to do this 💛
This was fun. I’d like poems in my inbox 👇🏻
Tell me in the comments (or hit reply to this email)
What is your reading diet at the moment? What flavours is your brain melding together?
Do you do any strength training? If so, how did you get started (think: 100% beginner, need it to be in my house for a max 15 minutes vibe. Asking for a friend 😂)
For the first poem, I pulled from my running list of Things I Don’t Like. It was a writing prompt that proved entertaining. What small things are on your list? What makes you itch?
Did you read Ode to My Envy? Did you love it?
Wow these were all punchy and amazing! What a gift you have!
“For breakfast, I feed my poem
protein: eggs, psalms, and Spurgeon.” Pure magic, Rebecca! ✨👌🏾