NaPo '26: Some More Poems and Prompts

NaPo '26: Some More Poems and Prompts

Hello, all! I hope you are all having a fantastic National Poetry Month. Personally, not too good tbh, but I have been writing a bunch of poems. I don't have all that much to say about them, but you can read three of those poems down below here, and then below that, the next few days' worth of prompts. This is probably the first NaPoWriMo that I have gone into with one specific, cohesive project in mind, and I am enjoying that. Next week, I want to talk a little more about that project and how it is shaping up so far, but in the meantime, enjoy some poems.


Self Portrait of the Poet as Clown in Their Grandfather’s Arms, 1999 

post trick-or-treating, the red 

on my nose had faded to a 

faint pink stain, blue circles 

around my eyes faded to gray

the white face paint on my cheeks 

remained, i think i may have been porcelain.

my grandpa has my rainbow 

wig on his head and it conceals

his smiling eyes, he’s smeared 

some of my white makeup on his cheeks

and it frames his yellow smile. i 

don’t think this is what i remember 

him looking like. i don’t recognize the 

multi-color satin jacket im wearing, it crumples

up in my grandfathers grip

around my chest, and i don’t remember 

what his hands, his arms felt like. i am frowning, 

or maybe trying to smile and not quite managing to. 

i don’t think i wanted to be 

a jester yet. that wouldn’t come 

until i learned how his brain took his body  

a year or two later. sometimes i wish 

i figured it out sooner—how to juggle, 

how to honk my nose, how to make friends 

out of balloons, how to do magic tricks. 

i’ve spent so much time trying to resurrect the dead


the clown works the kwik star night shift

i spray the roller grill with water

from my boutonnière and my hair net

puts sweat lines in the white makeup

on my forehead. i switch off the hotspot’s heat lamps and count the days til

my 21st birthday. i burp and my red lips

taste like hot dogs pall malls smirnoff. i’m unsteady. i always get my work done.

i stock the candy aisle i face the drinks i count

the lottery tickets and dream of my own big top,

when the stray 3 AM customer comes in i straighten my oversized tie,

i give my nose a couple honks, i put on a real good show,

i tell some jokes. i ask ‘em “why did the clown go to the doctor”

and before they can answer “he was feeling funny”

i finish, “beats me, he doesn’t have insurance!” and someone

drives off without paying for their gas. i’ve been on my feetsince 6 PM and these giant shoes are filled

with bees. i count the petals on my plastic

begonia and remember there’s nothing

to pollinate, a man exchanges cans

he found in the trash for nickels for stale

coffee i don’t charge him for. he asks for a tissue and i offer a neverending handkerchief.

neither of us have slept in days. i juggle cartons of cigarettes standing at the cash register. im ready be more paint than face


the circus comes to five flags arena, circa 2000

grandpa holds my cotton candy while the clown makes me a sword of balloons. i carry my weapon like a cross. i wave it through fake smoke. i hold my breath.

when we left mass today, i asked why god hates us through stained glass. i plug my ears. i make eye contact with the elephant. our performance will never be enough.


Prompts!!

April 10: Write a poem about the scariest thing you’ve ever done and also you have to incorporate one line about your favorite childhood tv show and use the word "celestial" at least once.

11: Write a love sonnet from a clown to a cheeseburger 

12: Write an ode to your most beloved vending machine. Extra challenge: make it an acrostic poem that spells out the word “Polydipsia” with the first letter of each line.

13: Is it creek or crick? Pop or soda? Firefly or lightning bug? Etc. or etc.?, etc. Write a poem making the case for your favorite regionalism

14: Write a poem where you imagine yourself as an expert in a hobby you started but gave up on.

15: Write an 8 line poem that starts at the house/apartment/trailer/condo/cave dwelling you lived in when you were first born and ends in the furthest place you've ever travelled.

Happy writing! More poems next week!