Classic Poem

401. I feel open to writing in general.
402. I feel open to free writing, sestinas, and haiku.
403. I feel open to sonnets and canzones, villanelles and pantoums.
404. I feel open to collages and centos.
405. I feel open to memory and my dreams.
406. I feel open to recipes and headlines and found poems of all kinds.
407. I feel open to nonsense and I feel open to sense.
408. I feel open to lists and inversions.
409. I feel open to squirting KY Jelly on my brain, if necessary, to get things going.
410. I feel open to reading the slaves.
411. I feel open to reading the masters.
412. I feel open to taking long walks and clustering.
413. I feel open to taking a nap to see what happens.
414. I feel open to mopping the floor, to see if the gray dreadlocks in soapy water remind me of Ophelia.
415. I feel open to revision and revisionist myth-making.
416. I feel open to bribing the Muse.
417. I feel open to begging.
418. I feel open to melodrama and understatement.
419. I feel open to calling a friend and asking for advice.
420. I feel open to collaboration with children or adults.
421. I feel open to sulking.
422. I feel open to silk worms, the way they create no matter what.
423. I feel open to painting, knitting, making a cake.
424. I feel open to making anything at all.
425. I feel open to humiliation.
426. I feel like opening the dictionary just to look at some words: galaxy, cucumber, scissors, tintinnabulation.
427. I feel open to using these four words in a four line stanza:
the cucumber peel in the sink was the first tip-off
that something was wrong —
then the terrible tintinnabulation of the galaxy
like scissors preening the fur of a small dog. . . .
428. I feel open to poems within poems.
429. I feel open to giving away my secrets.
430. I feel open to looking like a fool.
431. I feel open to crumpling up what I've written.
432. I feel open to starting all over again.
433. I feel open to free fall and thudding.
434. I feel open to soaring.
435. I feel open to simile and metaphor.
436. I feel open to synecdoche, synesthesia, and sin.
437. I feel open to miracles and mariachi.
438. I feel open to machismo, Mary Poppins, Milk Duds and murder.
439. In other words, I feel open to alliteration.
440. I feel open to assonance as well.
441. I feel open to acting like an absolute ass.
442. I feel open to riding the back of an ass, if I can somehow get a poem out of it.
443. I feel open to sitting on my ass in front of the TV with the sound off to see if that sets off any sparks.
444. I feel open to writing about asses and their different shapes.
445. I feel open to my own desperation for new subject matter.
446. I feel open to the fact that maybe there are already enough poems in the world.
447. I feel open to becoming a train conductor.
448. I feel open to specializing in yoga or suntans.
449. I feel open to getting out of my own head and learning to kickbox.
450. I feel open to going back to the Warhol museum in Pittsburgh to see the punching bags Warhol made with Basquiat.
451. I feel open to punching bags decorated with the face of Christ.
452. I feel open to punching god just to see what it feels like.
453. I feel open to taboo.
454. I feel open to the international sign for toilets in Spain — a stick figure sitting on the can.
455. I feel open to being discreet.
456. I feel open to other international signs for toilets, the silhouette of a woman in a skirt or a man in pants.
457. I feel open to making a Play Doh Garcia Lorca.
458. I feel open to doing Pablo Neruda's Etch A Sketch portrait.
459. I feel open to writing Sylvia Plath's name on a Lite-Brite board.
460. I feel open to cartwheels and Scrabble.
461. I feel open to using all the words from a finished Scrabble game in a poem.
462. I feel open to writing a poem using only words from the Official Scrabble Dictionary .
463. I feel open to rigor.
464. I feel open to cheating.
465. I feel open to misinterpretation and mistakes.
466. I feel open to the tee shirt in Miami promoting the Pope's visit. Instead of " I saw the Pope " (el Papa), the shirt read " I Saw the Potato " (la papa).
467. I feel open to seeing the Potato.
468. I feel open to the Holy Potato and its Holy Eyes.
469. I feel open to Mr. Potato Head dressed in a pope's gown.
470. I feel open to Mr. Potato Pope and his views on abortion.
471. I feel open to Pope Potato the Second.
472. I feel open to La Papa Segunda.
473. I feel open to as many languages as possible.
474. I feel open to translation.
475. I feel open to poems of political protest.
476. I feel open to prose poems and open to stanzas.
477. I feel open to couplets about chicken cutlets.
478. I feel open to terza rima about tiramisu.
479. I feel open to anecdotal poems about childhood.
480. I feel open to putting the names of poems in spell-check just to see what alternatives pop up.
481. I feel open to Dorianne Laux becoming Darwin Lax.
482. I feel open to Ai becoming Ax.
483. I feel open to Elizabeth Bishop, Molly Peacock, and Jean Valentine passing through spell-check unaltered.
484. I feel open to caesura. I feel open to lines that bleed into the next.
485. I feel open to meter and counterpoint.
486. I feel open to landscape poems with sheep dots and goat spots and mountains that look like sleeping giants in profile.
487. I feel open to the small white milk teeth of first-graders and mentioning them in poems for good luck.
488. I feel open to mushrooms and mushroom clouds.
489. I feel open to clouds of smoke, clouds of dust, and clouds of pink cotton candy fuzz.
490. I feel open to ritual and magic.
491. I feel open to abstraction and the five senses.
492. I feel open to Mad Libs and liberation of all kinds.
493. I feel open to turning Oscar Wilde's famous quote into a Luscerean word square:

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling.
All bad feelings spring from genuine poetry.
All genuine poetry springs from bad feelings.
All genuine feeling springs from bad poetry, etc.
494. I feel open to how the word look looks like " look, " the two o's, two round open eyes.
495. I feel open to becoming a nonce word.
496. I feel open to my own goose bumps.
497. I feel open to the little stuck-up hairs on my arm.
498. I feel open to pushing an idea too far.
499. I feel open to holding back.
500. I feel open to closure and the lack of it.