the poetry bone
poetry
lives of the poets
what you need is an old time poet
with latin and greek who loves to show it
velvet cloak, creaky boots
big slouch hat, musty suits
tragic voice that’s just the ticket
eyebrows like a bramble thicket
who writes all day and goes all night
on moonlit walks round the Isle of Wight
for a nod from the Queen, a purse of guineas
seats on luminous literary committees
at Ulysses’ seat we bow to thee
dead of consumption at twenty three
what you need is a modern poet
in a two tone t-shirt
says
no go mango
shit
fuck
you made me
mother was a
moment
a west beach witch
her
teats
a tethering point
last gasp
gutter gimp
lov-e-lee
KKRRRAAANG
infinite
meal metal
mmmm
this poem could save your life
made from handcrafted, recycled ideas
our poems come with clear
easy to follow lines
beatable metres, snap fit rhymes
ready to read at any time
guaranteed
110% cliche free
every phrase
beautifully displays
a poetic aesthetic that lasts for days
every metaphor carefully inspected
legions of allegory rigorously rejected
to maximise your spoken pleasure
indoors, outdoors, whatever the weather
enjoy with a scotch
by a lake in a lodge
scrolling on your apple watch
(not included)
be an early adopter
a daily rhyme
to avoid the doctor
with one of our poems you’ll be absolutely fine
holding a poem waiting in line
to receive the court’s unholy verdict
(shout it out till you’re sure they’ve heard it)
Reviews:
I didn’t read any poetry before
I’d sooner slam my head in a door
but when I downloaded a coupla stanzas
I became poet laureate – what are the chances?
(five stars)
I always thought that fiction was lies
poetry a puzzle for snooty guys
I only read manuals, the papers and that
now I know words like ziggurat
(five stars)
bought a poem, turned out shit
really not at all happy with it
as soon as I took it out of the box
it fell to bits and ruined my socks
asked for a refund, felt a bit sick
all they sent me was a limerick
(one star)
insertion point
the insertion point
that flashing bar
the off-and-on door
words shuffle through
sometimes I synchronise
my idiot blinking
to make it
seem permanently off
timing it right
is quite difficult
but much easier
than a poem
short poem
Stanley IS the poem
I think when you finally get to know him
you’ll see that Stanley IS the poem
all the techniques he’s managed to perfect
like dramatically hanging paws for effect
and as the frantic pounding of his tail makes clear
he’s more iambic than William Shakespeare
he sneezes in threeses as loud as he pleases
assonance where his expertise is
and he’ll stare into space, and twitch when he snoozes
dreaming of tripe stick flavoured muses
and reliably one full hour before he’s fed
he’ll howl like an elegy from the book of his bed
jim clayton 