‘My metaphors are all elephants’: Palate-cleansers for the mind (Part 1 of 2)

Using the “Exquisite Corpse” method described here, my students and I last week made some new texts that have parts that, like these below, are like palate-cleansers for the mind.

Live is just a verb for I was just young.

Bananaless lunches are so horrible, taste of chocolate cake.

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed to be very small world after all.

Mangoes fall from the tree huggers.

My metaphors are all elephants.

Feel like I was hit by a big bus that ran over a person who knows nothing.

This right here is my swag is off.

It really does suck oiling the tires on a flower.

Let’s go swimming with me and you at the movies with mom.

Kill me very slowly please. Help me find my parrot.

Very thrillfully I lunged toward a big house on the left, haunted.

America is the opposite of somewhere over the rainbow.

Money makes me sad like the wind I ran across.

Love can be fake, although peanut butter is delicious.

“Pen” is my pen-name.

Why try to change your ugly face? Please show what you are.

Everyone got annoyed smiling at what no chimpanzee made out of copper.

Today I will wash my words are nonsense banana.

Sky rhymes with words like a fish out of the dead horse.

the McDonald’s parking lot of cats

Violently beat a man to make food right now.

That was not what I was expecting a bakery to have.

Work with what you own, a waffle cone.

Rocks are hard like metal hospital garage roof kittens get eaten by ants.

Piano is the dumbest instrument of your utter demise.

Morons are really dumb. I never knew that. I now know.

I could be anything, all you need. You will fight me now.

Life is like a story gone wrong because of mice and men.

I chose the right egg, Jimmy.

House is a word like a unicorn because yeah.

Tomorrow is the day when I get older.

Now the fighting began because Harold lost his pants.

So now I am your favorite mouse.

Love is a four letter to my lover, Bob.

Stop yourself before you need to stop talking to my wallaby.

How do you spell the world’s longest word of the great man who is also a pig in a pen full of blood?

A longer listing is here. Last semester’s poems made by similar method are here and here.

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