To a Woman Collecting Her Thoughts: A Revolutionary IMprov Poem

She didn’t seem meek
Speaking,
and sitting,
on the banks of the creek

that cool, rainy day.
But then I watched
her thoughts
float away.

And suddenly
she had no more to say.
So, she ran to get them
But fell in
and couldn’t collect them,
nor could she swim.

And I,
like the nice guy
that I am,
leapt in,
reached out my hand,
and

collected her
thoughts.
Thinking
not
of her sinking

on that cool, rainy day,
but of thinks I’d collected
that she wouldn’t say.
And she floated away.