Slow Night at Club Whatever
Open mic night at Club Whatever, and the poems are working too hard. Fill in the missing linking verbs and the words they deliver, and find out what happens when a poem stops performing and starts being.
Lucy's at her corner table, listening. Finish up and she'll read the whole set back, slow and even.
Your story is ready. Here is what Lucy read.
Tap or hover over any orange word to see what kind of word you chose.
Open mic night at Club Whatever drew a small crowd, which suited Lucy fine. The lighting dim, the tablecloths , and nobody in the room was in a hurry.
A nervous poet read a piece in which everything exploded, sprinted, and shattered. The applause polite. Afterward the poet about the whole thing.
"Your action verbs belong to Vinny, and they're good ones," Lucy said from her corner table. "But this poem is about who you are. Profundity is love, man."
So the poet revised. The first line a plain truth. The second and that way on purpose. The big finish simply was.
This time the crowd snapped instead of clapping. By closing time, the poet a regular. The lemonade , and everything at Club Whatever simply was.
This story has been filled in before.