Going on a Word Diet–Magnetic Poetry
What's on your fridge?
A week ago, my best friend sent me a little box of smut, which I tore open and stuck on my fridge. It’s got the body-part verbs and nouns you’d expect from a box of smut. Next to the smut are words from the red kit. (They make blue, green, and pink kits, too.) So, the right side of my fridge is pretty saucy, or perchance one pairing away from a new fetish that climaxes in a “rhubarb moan” or a “naked lobster rocket.”
All these shenanigans aside–I have “inspirational” words on the front of my fridge–I like that fiddling with Magnetic Poetry makes me feel clever, even if it’s only one time out of ten. I’m interested in the juxtapositions that come out of such a limited vocabulary. It’s like a surrealist game. Here I imagine Breton pulling words, one at a time, from a fancy hat and reading them at the cabaret. It’s a social thing, too: arraigning words on your friend’s fridge for him or her to find later.
rhubarb moan = fantastic.
“faith chaos” is pretty cool. So is “cherry revolution.” It seems like one cool thing magnetic poetry does is make suggestions subliminally. The “soul” magnet catches your eye while you’ve got “blaze” in your hands. It’s a match. Where to put it? Anywhere will do because the magnets take as much responsibility as you do for what happens next.
I had magnet words on my fridge in college and a bunch of roomates roommates in the house. It was so much fun to discover new poetry and phrases on the fridge every day. Especially after a party.
One of my roommates was courted through the magnet words by a secret admirer who was friends with someone else who lived in the house or just hung out there often—I can’t remember the details. I do remember that they eventually hooked up and after a month of love messages on the fridge, the real date was a huge disappointment for both of them and they never went out together again.
dude I can see Breton doing that too! If I was a poet I think I would do a lot of poeting with magnetic poetry.