The Poets

I wanted to try something a bit less serious than usual.....

We are wordcrunchers

We boil books for breakfast

We limp through unlit streets and seek stanzas in  bins behind libaries

We bang  vending machines to make them spew words 

Instead of socks we wear newspapers

(But only the ones with an upper class touch)

We hit small children to make them speak like Shakespeare

We will never be rich or famous

but die of TBC in attics in Paris.

We might even shoot our girlfriends or fall in love

with our sisters.

We are,

worst of all,

easy to hurt.

 

Reviews

[Emily B]

this is amazing, i could wrap myself in words like these

[An owl on the moon]

These lines breathe out all manner of metaphors and magic... Playful yet profound, you've made poets the blind enchanters they deserve to be, rainbow weavers in a world so full of gray...