Escapril is was a yearly poetry challenge a la Inktober, started by author and poet Savannah Brown. It consisted of a list of prompts, one for each day in april, for which a poem would have to be written. My personal added rule is that you only get to look at the current prompt day-of, so as to avoid any pre-planning, ensuring that the resultant pieces would be genuine expressions of their moment for better and worse.
The issue is the following: It is March 31st and I just learned that there will be no Escapril 2025. Seeing how I will be very busy across four countries next month, I should accept this excuse for inaction gracefully, but my mind balks at the very concept of a poised defeat and has elected to petulantly dig its heels in instead. We will do this, however clumsily. Since time is short and since I have not participated in any Escaprils except the last one, my first best idea was to simply use one of the old set lists (and since I stupidly read the ones for 2023 and 2022, making it impossible to follow my extra rule, the choice fell on 2021). I'd be delighted if anyone decided to join me in this endeavour, but I acknowledge that it's a huge mess, so do not feel obligated to share in my folly. Escapril is dead, long live Escapril! (Yes, I'll come up with something better next year when I'll have time to prepare a more satisfying alternative). This page may be temporary, as I'll want to restructure the poetry section once the month is over.
Has your fence become uncomfy? Have you freely left your post? Or did it not once lie much closer? Sacred centre, so you boast. It's not a fixture now your middle Halfway judged from hand-picked nodes And I won't come a half-step closer Not as past me ground erodes Looks quite bent, your front of iron Same as last time, so it seems Your "contra Hitler, contra Thälmann" "Contra Höcke, contra... Greens?" And when in doubt just contra action They're just Nazis, let them steer Exactly middle, badly chosen Backwards every passing year The current takes you. Kids are drowning Long past middle, near the end And still you're calmly drifting past these Burning walls you won't defend
I for eye, It's getting lonely. Built this shack to keep us dry, Broke this dam to surely drown you. Crammed our soul with notes whereby One day you must lose your footing. Ever sooner ends your reign. We'll outmanoeuvre, Slay and eat you. One of us shall Take your name. Head and hall Are insufficient Space for any of us all. We incomplete uneasy allies Plot and scheme your knee-deep fall. Above, below, contenders clangour None so far have passed our test Nor passed us by Cogito ergo— Ego. Landlord, Squatter, Guest.