The U-District Farmers Market is Prolific!

Posted Mon, 11/23/2015 - 11:17am by  |  Category:


Last month, we asked the people of U-District Farmers Market to join in on our last collaborative poem — and lucky for us, everyone gave us their best stuff!

If you haven’t been following these posts, the deal is this: we bring a typewriter to various farmers markets. There, the market-goers add one line each while only being able to see the line that comes before theirs. This makes for a delightfully random, often serendipitously profound, and chaotic poem. Take a look at the final product below.


U-District Farmers Market


Taking my first steps through the fall outdoor market,
Thankfully, I didn’t fall.
Happy day party time new baby
the fog rolls in
the gray hearkens her mind
happy thoughts shine through
and elephants flying in the wind
hurricanes within and without
she felt the wind blow within
and the leaves blew everywhere


take a deep breath, life is waiting for
the orange explosion
we expected
fall colors

Love is the cure to everything

The fragrance of the colorful flowers
is a reminder of future dreams
yet to be fulfilled

dreams at the cusp of reality


Lusting for a better tomorrow
knowing the moment of beauty now
my heart throbbing
times power of erasure fading

I eat my apricot danish

my body feels good for
the first time in a little while
answer to the chill in your bones
listen to the beat
let the air chill seep in
like red wine
Let’s type something.
Lucky shell.


And the dog ran wild
up the hill
and around the bend

the carpet swerved as the young witch
clung on

thick wool twisted into gnarled knots
Terpsichore tripped tentatively through time
as the pumpkins glowed like orange orbs
our treacherous autumn all right
mediated by PR Gnus in Washington
We can tell it from Seattle all the way to
New York City

I was robbed
by an octopus
he had too many hands
to play the harpsichord
in the waters beneath the Norwegian fjords

As I go to write this line, my mind totally

Color my life with the chaos of trouble

The market feels like home

Magic is in the green
But it’s rarely seen

Under clouds under trees under the earth
we will return after checking the car

Aah aah is Juniper’s word for the day
He yells it at the clouds


Hat and pumpkins
things you can buy at the farmers market

A cloudy day on Seattle does lay,
and she turned and walked away
and saw a pig
carried by the aromas
air floats like waves in the sea.