PAD Day 22: Grab the Popcorn

 Today's prompts:

WBP: Write an "earth" poem.

NPWM: "...write a poem in which two things have a fight. Two very unlikely things, if you can manage it. Like, maybe a comb and a spatula. Or a daffodil and a bag of potato chips. Or perhaps your two things could be linked somehow – like a rock and a hard place – and be utterly sick of being so joined. "

PSH: (from Tara Elliott)

1. Choose one from each column (A, B and C below). ...

If you’re daring, use a standard die to help you “roll” your selection.

A: Craft Skill Focus             
1. Allusion
2. Anaphora
3. Simile
4. Metaphor
5. Personifica.0tion
6. Assonance

B: Restrictions
1. One adjective/adverb only
2. No end-stopped lines
3. No articles (a, an, the)
4. No stanza breaks
5. One verb only
6. No alliteration

C: Must Contain
1. A color
2. A scent
3. “thirteen”
4. Sports team or sport
5. A reference to the body
6. The name of a famous poet

2. Set a timer for precisely eleven minutes. You can edit later, but the time constraint during the initial writing will increase your focus.
3. Write. While writing, do NOT edit yourself other than attempting to stay within the constraints you’ve already set. Write the entirety of the eleven minutes. Yes, even if you think you’re finished. Keep writing.
4. Edit your work.

I rolled a die and got 1, 2 and 6. That means I must employ allusions, have no end-stopped lines, and cite the name of a famous poet. I also have to work "earth" and an unlikely conflict into the poem if possible. So here's the result. I expected "Earth" to spawn a poem about conservation or climate change, but instead I ended up in a completely different direction, describing another existential threat, if only imagined. (A line from another poem I allude to is in italics.)

Earth vs. the Flying Saucers
 
Spinning with Harryhausen precision, they land on 

the White House lawn, and in an admittedly defensive 

move, vaporize a company of soldiers, while 

scientists and generals try to figure them out, and 

someone’s girlfriend gets hysterical. It’s the same old 

story—the tactic of the exploding plane, the strategy

of the sinking boat—until we cobble together 

a new weapon that forces them to crash spectacularly 

into our monuments, leaving us to marvel at all 

the special effects, and wonder about Skyhook 

and Donald Keyhoe and Area 51, then wander off into 

another scenario, another poem inspired by bad sci-fi, like 

Raab and his giant crab monsters, the second half 

of the double feature, and maybe we can enjoy 

a little more popcorn before the next stanza.