Saturday, 11 October 2014

Ode to Poetry

Poetry should sit on
out-of-date bank notes
and old receipts.

It should jump
and not forget
the texture of the dust upon
the ground.

It should admire the stars
and the trees
and the meadows
from the backseat of a
jet black Renault.

It should change wears
but keep in mind
the wears of
yesterday.
That yellow-spotted shirt.
Those socks.

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