Improv. 2 (week 1)

This time, I decided to try to improv off of Claude McKay's The Tropics of New York because when I read it, It stuck out due to not only his use of imagery about his home, but the form of the piece which is to be noted as a stanza. I took note of how this poem seemed to use Iambic Pentameter and thought maybe i could try to come up with something in my improv. My improv I'm going to try for iambic quadrameter because form is really where i tend to struggle.

Speak about the crumbs of the man, 

strains in his wrist solemnly sliding

to his small apartment in the cracks.

Reveal the grains of sand lodged

in a woman with furred tongue, 

etched echoes in her chest bellowing

coughing spurts of rose petals. 

Write the candle, slowly glossing
flames licking the edges of its cage.
Small flakes of confetti snow that take root (I might have hit five on this one instead of four?)
at the bottom of a globe without being woken,
shaken ready to rise like the glimpse of the sun
on opposite gazes of the earth.