All right, all right, I did an erasure poem. I’m normally not fond of these, but I figured I should be a good sport with the spirit of the NaPoWriMo prompt and do one. I’ve marked the erased text in cream, so you can probably still make out the original, but try to only read the black text, I guess. These always make me feel distinctly un-creative: I feel like taking someone else’s work and chopping away pieces with a machete leaves behind something that is either too similar, or makes so little sense (and the sense it does make is only because of what was there originally). But then, maybe I’m picking the wrong poems, or maybe I’m just trying too hard. I don’t know, this and transliteration are just the bugbears of my text-mucking life.
A Visit from St. Nicholas
(with apologies to Clement Moore)
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ’kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.