MEREDITH MILLER

The Poem Teller

“Fold the grid paper according to the directions below to create a handheld Poem Teller that will generate poems and/or ideas for poems.”

The first image shows a piece of paper being folded and cut in twelve steps, each articulated by a small image of the action. The images are in a 3 by 4 grid. The end result is a paper fortune teller, which you hold between your thumbs and forefingers and are able to manipulate to open vertically and horizontally. The surface of the fortune teller has four options. Once the first option is chosen (usually through counting or some sort of school-yard song), it may be opened to reveal a second option. The process is repeated until you have a third option.

The second image is a full-size sheet of paper which is meant to be folded and cut in accordance with the above diagram. It shows all the possible options which will appear within the fortune teller. Because it is a poetry teller and not a fortune teller, the options are all parts of poems.

(These are all the options of poems which the fortune teller is able to make. The final five lines are the poets chosen poem.) 

I fear my honeydew melon quietly atrophies,
I fear the divine with the intensity of a lightning storm,
I fear the ghost of a lover in the pit of your stomach,
I fear a disco, alone at dusk,
I fear black mold & old clutter when you point that gun in my face,
I fear love boldly underfoot,
I fear space-time on a Sunday,
I fear the trembling earth remembering its name.

Feels like the ghost of a lover, alone at dusk,
Feels like a disco in the pit of your stomach,
Feels like my honeydew melon, with the intensity of a lightning storm,
Feels like the divine quietly atrophies,
Feels like black mold & old clutter remembering its name,
Feels like love on a Sunday,
Feels like space-time boldly underfoot,
Feels like the trembling earth when you point that gun in my face.

A silence overtakes; black mold & old clutter quietly atrophies,
A silence overtakes love with the intensity of a lightning storm,
A silence overtakes space-time in the pit of your stomach,
A silence overtakes the trembling earth, alone at dusk,
A silence overtakes the divine when you point that gun in my face,
A silence overtakes my honeydew melon, boldly underfoot,
A silence overtakes a disco on a Sunday,
A silence overtakes the ghost of a lover remembering its name.

What if you forget space-time, alone at dusk,
What if you forget the trembling earth in the pit of your stomach,
What if you forget black mold & old clutter with the intensity of a lightning storm,
What if you forget love quietly atrophies,
What if you forget the divine remembering its name,
What if you forget my honeydew melon on a Sunday,
What if you forget a disco, boldly underfoot,
What if you forget the ghost of a lover when you point that gun in my face?

(the poets own creation)

i fear black mold & old clutter on a Sunday,

feels like love when you point that gun in my face.

a silence overtakes the ghost of a lover

with the intensity of a lightning storm.

what if you forget the divine boldly underfoot?