Happy Poetry Month! Poem-a-Day Challenge Day 1

It's been two and a half months since my last post, and I really haven't been doing a lot with poetry since then.  I wrote four short poems in one day last week and was quite proud of myself, so I haven't been setting the bar very high lately.  But I always look forward to National Poetry Month and the Poem-a-Day Challenge over at Robert Brewer's Poetic Asides blog. As he did last year, Robert recruited an impressive list of poets to guest-judge each day's entries, and each daily winner will be featured in the second annual anthology/writing manual Poem Your Heart Out, published by Words Dance Press. (I was privileged to have a poem featured in last year's edition.) I'm particularly excited about this year's judges, because they include three poets with whom I have worked (Marge Piercy, Molly Peacock, and Dorianne Laux) and another whom I've met (Taylor Mali).  Also, as I've done for the past couple of years, I will try to combine Robert's prompt with the one from Maureen Thorson's NaPoWriMo blog.  So to start out, my dual prompts for today are:

(1) write a "resistance" poem, and
(2) write a "negation" poem (i.e. describe something negatively, in terms of what it is not).

The second prompt reminds me a little of Billy Collins' "Litany":

...However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air....

I actually wrote two poems for today, both of which reference the "Borg" from Star Trek ("Resistance is futile"), but I will post this one because it fits both the prompts. 

Pull

You are not what I can resist.
You are not smoked salmon,
Brussels sprouts, fresh mango,
or NHL hockey. You are not
American Idol or Honey Boo Boo,
and you are certainly not hip-hop,
Margaret Thatcher or a thunderstorm.
I am also positive you are not bungee-jumping
or reruns of Three’s Company.
And I am fairly confident you are not
A pit bull, a wasp, or WWF wrestling.
Unlike those other things, you pull me in
with your tractor beam, and I blissfully
comply, your servant, your assimilated one.