Last Wednesday night’s writing prompt, brought by Greg Wright, was to write in response to the first minute of a random track from Greg’s MP3 player.

The track that came up: MaMuse’s “Calling All Angels.”

Ten minutes of writing produced the following unexpurgated works.

Mrs. Killian Describes the Departures

Sam Owen

Hands pat the bodrahn,
angelic voices harmonize
on solid green ground,
treeless and rocky.
Irish language, once denied
still sings in revolt
of English laws which took
every tree and textbook.
Left to the infertile Burren
they turned in hope
toward the cold, black sea.

Impeachment

Greg Wright

Rising to the level of expectations.
It’s the simplest of psychological tricks.
Instead we engage in the art of politics,
splitting negligible partisan hairs
for the meanest of suspicious ends,
believing the worst of one another
when we could be calling all angels.